The Pain Within
by The Brainless Wonderr
Summary: Outside, he's a lightning bolt, always ready to strike. Inside, he's a tornado of pain, hate, and fear. Will Draco Malfoy ever find a way out of the storm he calls life? EPILOGUE UP NOVEMBER 3RD!
1. The Past

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**Author's Note:** Well hello there!! This is my first Harry Potter fic. It deals with abuse, slight profanity, and later on, suicide. Please read and let me know what you think!!!!!  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 1: The Past  
**_  
  
  
  
September 22, 1987  
_  
Lucius Malfoy paced back and forth in the small waiting room, wearing the carpet thin. His best friend Severus sat in a chair with an amused expression on his normally blank face. Lucius kept muttering incoherent words to himself and his hands were wrung nervously by his sides.  
  
Luke, everything's going to turn out fine. Calm down, you're a bloody wreck!  
  
The blond man glared at his friend. Then why the hell is it taking so long?  
  
Severus opened his mouth to say something in return, but a lanky nurse entered the room, looking at the two men.  
  
Mr. Malfoy? You can come see your wife now. And, she smiled, beautiful baby boy.  
  
Lucius's face broke out into a boyish grin and he shot Severus an excited glance as he followed the nurse through the door. They traveled down a corridor full of sounds of wailing babies and cries of pain and joy before stopping at Room 308.  
  
Here you go, sir, the nurse said before leaving to tend to other patients.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy sat comfortably in a large white hospital bed. She rocked a slightly squirming blanket until it stopped moving in her arms. Upon her husband's entrance she lifted her head. She looked worn out and tired, caramel colored hair plastered to her forehead by sweat, but her face radiated with happiness.  
  
Lukey, look, he was worth the lengthy labor. He's absolutely gorgeous!  
  
Lucius took a step forward and peeked into the bundle. His breath caught in his throat. Normally, nothing too complimentary can be said about a newborn - they usually resembled pink wrinkly dolls covered in blood. But this baby - HIS son - was an immaculate angel. He couldn't recall a time when he felt as proud or spellbound as he did now gazing at his child. He forgot the world around him - who he was, what he was, his associations, his wealth, his ENTIRE LIFE - as he was mesmerized by the small bundle in front of him. The pale, snow white skin; the perfectly shaped tiny nose; the tuft of wispy blond hair that had gently been smoothed back; the small, pink mouth; and the blond eyelashes that laid peacefully against rosy cheeks while the baby slept.  
  
What'll we name him? Narcissa asked.  
  
Lucius's head snapped up, eyes still full of amazement and reverie. Draco. It means dragon' in Latin.  
  
Narcissa nodded in approval, while the baby in her arms began to stir. He sighed before finally opening his eyes. He moved his head and stared up at his father. Lucius found himself staring back into two of the clearest blue eyes he had ever encountered. The baby reached a tiny hand upward. Lucius's eyes widened, and overcome with emotion, brought a large finger down to the outstretched hand. Five tiny fingers latched on to it immediately.  
  
Welcome to the world, Draco, he whispered. I'm your daddy and this is your mommy, and we both love you very much.  
  
Draco's grip tightened and Lucius stroked his small left arm tenderly. The same left arm which, in sixteen years, would bear a dark symbol replicative of the one his father bore on his own left arm. The enchantment of the moment suddenly broke. Reality came flooding back to Lucius Malfoy. A vindictive smile formed on his lips.  
  
You will be great, Draco Malfoy. Mark my words. You will be great.  
  
~~~  
  
Draco, sit down and be quiet!  
  
The energetic blond tyke stopped romping about the room. But Daddy, he whined, I was showing you how to be an elephant. You _said_ you wanted to see, so that's what I was showing you.  
  
Lucius hadn't seemed to hear the four year old's explanation, too preoccupied with the piece of parchment he was reading to notice. Draco pouted; he didn't like not getting attention. He decided to demonstrate his elephant impression to his father again. Soon he was once again scampering around the study, waving his arms wildly, and emitting strange high pitched noises every so often.  
  
Lucius slammed down the parchment, irritated by the yelling and running. DRACO! I thought I told you to sit your bloody arse down and shut your God-damned mouth! Now do so before I throw you on the floor and hex your mouth shut!  
  
Draco stopped in his tracks and immediately obeyed his father. He didn't always understand what his father's words meant, but from the tone of his voice and livid eyes, he knew he was angry. He quietly took a seat on the floor next to his father's chair.  
  
Good. Now let's go over everything I've told you about. Who is our leader, the greatest Dark leader of all time?  
  
Lord Vol-dee-mort. was the automatic reply.  
  
What's Daddy's special job?  
  
Daddy's a Death-eater.  
  
Right. And when will you become a Death-eater?  
  
When I turn 16 years old.  
  
What do Death-eaters do?  
  
Draco thought about it. They, um, torture and kill muggles, mudbloods, and half-bloods.  
  
Lucius beamed. You are going to make an excellent Death-eater one day, Draco. The Dark Lord would be proud of you if he was here. He sighed. But not to worry, he'll be back soon enough to once again terrorize and take over the world.  
  
He picked up his parchment once again. Run along now, it's your bedtime.  
  
Draco stood and scurried towards the door. There was a pause and then the tiny footsteps hesitantly retreated back in front of Lucius's chair.  
  
  
  
What, Draco? was the irritated reply.  
  
What if I don't wanna be a Death-eater when I'm all growed up? It's not nice to hurt people just because they're not magic like us.  
  
Silence engulfed the room as if the Silencing curse had been used. Only the crackling of the red-orange fire could be heard while the little boy patiently awaited his father's answer. He stood there motionless, innocent blue eyes wide with curiosity, his blond hair combed loosely to one side. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the paper was lowered and Draco's appearance taken in by two steely gray eyes. A large hand lurched from the armrest and slapped the four-year old across the face. The force knocked him to the ground. Two arms picked him up and tightly gripped his shoulders.  
  
Lucius hissed, shaking the trembling boy furiously after each word, you WILL become a Deatheater, and you WILL want to, you hear me? Don't you dare mention foolish shit like that ever again! Now get the hell out of my face.  
  
With a shove Draco was pushed towards the door. He fell, cutting his knee on a nail, but quickly was back on his tiny feet and scrambling out the door. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he ran up stairs and down hallways to his mother's room.  
  
What had he done wrong to make Daddy so mad? He didn't think his question was bad. His small mind raced as tears continued cascading down his cheeks and blood dripped down his knee, but he could think of nothing. He concluded he was just a bad boy and his father hated him.  
  
He entered his mother's room, panting and choking back sobs. Narcissa took a sharp glance at his red cheek where the outline of a hand could be seen and immediately enveloped the sobbing boy in a gentle embrace, running slim fingers through his blond hair while he cried. Soothing murmurs of Shh, it's okay were whispered softly in his ear until he finally quieted down, save for a few hiccups. Worn out from the terror and the pain, he fell asleep in his mother's arms.  
  
A lone tear escaped Narcissa's eye as she hugged Draco's sleeping form. Her son was also now a victim of Lucius Malfoy's abusive temper.  
  
~~~  
  
I WILL NOT tolerate you getting yourself drunk and coming home at all hours every night! It's going to end RIGHT NOW!!  
  
I don't have to listen to you. I will do whatever the hell _I_ want to and live my life however the hell _I_ feel. _You_ will not tell me what to do!  
  
I'm only trying to help you. You need to get a grip on your life Lucius Malfoy and stop dawdling in self-pity. What, just because your precious Dark Lord isn't around to tell you to eat and sleep means you can't function?  
  
That was the last straw. From his perch on the step, Draco saw his father's face turn beet red with anger. He watched in horror as he punched his mother continually. She tried to block his angry fist, but to no avail. Draco crawled quietly back to his room. He heard glass breaking, loud thuds, obscene yelling, and painful screams as yet another fight between his parents took place. The 8 year old hopped onto his bed, closed his eyes, and covered his ears. Would it ever end?  
  
~~~  
  
Draco followed the other first years up the grand staircase. He rolled his eyes at their excited whispers and exclamations about the changing staircases or moving portraits. Big deal. He pushed ahead of his classmates and stood at the top of the staircase to survey the crowd. He recognized a few people as children of other Deatheaters. They were also fated to become Slytherins like himself. His roaming eyes finally landed on the infamous scar he had been searching for. He smirked and strode over, neatly pressed black robes swishing behind him. He stopped in front of a small boy with green eyes and messy jet black hair.  
  
So, it's true then, what they're saying on the train, he drawled, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.  
  
The other students murmured, trying to get a glimpse of the young hero, while Harry eyed the blonde suspiciously. Draco grinned confidently.  
  
The name's Malfoy...Draco Malfoy.  
  
The red-head next to Harry snorted. Draco whirled around. Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe - you must be a Weasley.  
  
The red-head, Ron, turned slightly red and glared at Draco. Draco smirked and turned back to Harry. You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong kind. I can help you there, he said, holding out a pale hand.  
  
Harry ignored his hand and looked Draco right in the eye. I think I can figure out the right sort for myself, thanks.  
  
Draco shrugged. Fine, suit yourself. See you around, _Potter_.  
  
With one last glare at Ron, Draco spun around and followed the first years into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. He knew he'd be in Slytherin, so he didn't bother paying much attention. He was too angry to worry about where other kids were being placed.  
  
He silently fumed, but showed no trace of it on his face. Living through years of his father's abuse taught him how to conceal his emotions, or suffer dire consequences. His father had also pound into him, literally and figuratively, that the Malfoys were filthy rich and should look down upon anyone who wasn't financially comparable.  
  
The result of Lucius Malfoy's cruel beatings and haughty influence was an arrogant little eleven year old full of pain and fear. Unable to display these emotions, they came off as a nasty attitude full of insults and mockery. Instead of presenting his inner agonies to someone, to anyone, Draco buried them and closed off the world to his emotions. He had stopped crying long ago, finding it was useless along with screaming or yelling because it only subjected him to more abuse. His mother was no longer his source of comfort, for she had to wage her own war, and Draco didn't want to burden her with his own. The pain and fear stayed locked inside, behind walls of mistrust and shame, and under a roof of confusion. Draco was emotionally unreachable, and intended to keep it that way. For the more pain that is let out, the more pain that is brought in.  
  
That night, Draco laid in his four poster bed in the first year boys' dormitory, green curtains closed, and stared up at the silver snakes sewn into the fabric of the canopy. How could Potter just brush him off like that? Why would he want to be friends with that lowly Weasley? Hadn't he understood, couldn't he see? He had been Draco's last flicker of hope, but now the fire was dead.  
  
Harry Potter had practically defeated Lord Voldemort. The Dark leader now roamed around the world, barely a drop of life in him, looking for cowards to join him so he could regain his strength. Draco had thought that somehow, by befriending the boy who ruined his future leader, he would have been saved from his destiny. Now it wasn't so. The Slytherin vowed to make Potter's and Weasley's lives hell while they were at Hogwarts.  
  
Thinking of Hogwarts, he sighed. Here, he was safe, away from the horrors of his home. He dreaded Christmas break, in which he'd be sent back to Malfoy Manor for two weeks. Two weeks full of terror and abuse. He was afraid. Very afraid. He feared for his mother, for himself. He feared what could happen or what he may see next. And all because of one man: his father.  
  
Draco quickly shoved his fear away, tucking it back into its hidden grotto inside of him. It would remain there for a few years before sprouting new emotions that became hard to control.  
  
Anger...Despair...  
  
Hate.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
Author's Notes: I don't know when Draco's birthday is, so I just used Tom Felton's birthday as the date...When Draco talks with Harry, there are certain lines from the movie that I liked, so I just used them in the story - I don't own the movie or actors!! ...This chapter was just a bit of memories and past events, the rest of the story will take place in the gang's 6th year...Please review, it would mean the world to me!!!! Thanks so much!!! ;)


	2. Anger

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Yes, I finally decided to update. Sorry about the short length, but I have chapter 3 partially written, so it should be up soon. Random thought: Ya know how the Mirror of Erised shows people what they truly desire? Well, Erised spelled backwards is Desire...Wow, I'ma a quick one, ain't I?? ::ahem:: On with the story....  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 2: Anger**  
  
  
  
Draco laughed yet again when Neville Longbottom spilled his potion for the third time that class. He snickered while Professor Snape reprimanded the pudgy boy, who was close to tears. Draco rolled his eyes; after six years, you would think the boy would learn to suck it up. Stupid Gryffindor.  
  
The blond Slytherin poured his Concealment Potion into a small vial. He had completed way ahead of his fellow classmates, and once Snape saw him cleaning up, he questioned the boy.  
  
Finished so soon, Mr. Malfoy?  
  
Draco looked up and grinned confidently. Yes, sir, I found this potion to be rather easy.  
  
The greasy-haired teacher raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Oh, really? This is not a potion of great simplicity; that is why it isn't taught until sixth year.  
  
_Then how come I've been able to brew it since I was eleven?_ Draco shrugged. Well, what can I say? Potions happens to be my best subject.  
  
Snape nodded skeptically. I suppose. Take out other work, please, so you will not disturb the much needed concentration of the rest of the class.  
  
Draco smirked at the comment and pulled out his Transfiguration essay. Not that he intended to do it. He had much more important things to worry about. Like his upcoming birthday.  
  
That Friday he would turn sixteen years old. It was probably the worst dreaded day in his life. Once he turned sixteen, he was eligible for initiation into the Dark Lord's inner circle. His father was anticipating him to bring great honor to the Malfoy name by becoming an extraordinary Death Eater and performing great tasks for Lord Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy had dreams of his son taking the position of Voldemort's second right hand man, he himself being the first. Personally, Draco couldn't give a shit. He didn't want to answer to anyone but himself; an opportunity he seldom had, for his father controlled and decided Draco's life for him. There was absolutely nothing he could do. If he stood up for himself, his father would be enraged and give him a beating he wouldn't forget. If he did nothing but obey his father's wishes, the beating wouldn't be so bad.  
  
The blonde sighed in frustration. To this day, he never understood what he did to deserve abuse. When he was younger, he made himself believe he was a horrible son and his father didn't love him. Now, at 15, he _knew_ his father didn't love him; if he did, why would he hurt his own son? As for the horrible son belief, Draco convinced himself that even if he did his best at everything, which he normally did, it would still never be enough for his father. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't beat Granger at grades, or Potter at Quidditch. And, although it pissed him off that two Gryffindors - _Potter_ and a mudblood at that - always outdid him, he was content being number two. He thought it was quite an accomplishment. Obviously, Lucius didn't, for Draco had scars to prove it.  
  
At the thought of scars, Draco remembered the newest one forming on his lower back from when his father shoved him into the edge of a table. He winced at the memory and quietly snuck the vial of Concealment potion into his bag. He could always use an extra supply, for it was the only way to suppress his fading bruises and cuts from those around him.  
  
~~~  
  
That night at dinner, Draco chatted idly with his fellow Slytherins while they ate the chicken and rice dinner. Draco picked at the rice while Crabbe and Goyle, who sat on either side of him, scarfed down piece after piece of chicken. It disgusted him, the way they could eat enough food for a quarter of the school. It was even more revolting that they just kept growing larger and larger. Draco shook his head at the two and concentrated on his own meal. The only reason he had ever bothered with those two fat lumps was because his father told him to, since both Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe were influential Death Eaters. According to Lucius, it would be beneficial to have good acquaintances' in order to obtain a good status within the Dark Lord's circle.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes angrily at the chicken he was now stabbing. What _his father_ said. What _his father_ thought. What _his father_ wanted. **Nothing** ever included Draco's opinion.  
  
As he brooded over the thought, hundreds of owls came swooping into the Great Hall carrying mail. The Malfoy eagle owl was among them. _Perfect timing_, Draco thought sarcastically. _More of Daddy's bidding to do._ He figured the letter was informing him of when he was to return home to receive the Dark Mark. He fed the owl the battered remains of his chicken before he tore open the envelope boasting the Malfoy family seal.  
  
_Draco,  
  
As you have probably guessed, this is in regards to your upcoming initiation. It will take place this Saturday at 2:00 pm. I have already written Dumbledore and requested your presence at home for family affairs - the old fool will believe anything. The train leaves at 8:00 sharp on Saturday morning. DO NOT be late. Make sure you are prepared. I am expecting your most exceptional behavior.  
  
Or else.  
  
Lucius Malfoy  
  
_Draco seethed as he folded the letter in half. No Happy Birthday' or Have a great birthday'. Nothing. No references to his birthday at all. Just orders and threats. The man didn't even have the decency to sign it Dad'. Which suited Draco fine; he could never consider Lucius Malfoy a father anyway.  
  
As rage continued to course through his veins, Draco slammed his fork down on his plate and tossed his napkin on top, and curtly excused himself from the table. He stormed out of the Great Hall and the entire way down to the Slytherin dormitories in the dungeons. He entered his private bedroom - the one advantage of having a wealthy powerful father' - and threw himself on his bed. He closed his eyes. Requesting that Draco have his own private room last year was probably the nicest thing Lucius had ever done, and the only thing Draco was grateful for. He basked in the solitude of the room, away from the other annoying Slytherins. He rolled over and mused his current situation. He might as well enjoy what little freedom he had before it was completely gone.  
  
  
~*~  
Expect Chapter 3 in the next week. Please **REVIEW**!!!  
  
**Fain Oakenbringer:** Don't worry, I haven't lost inspiration - my inspiration is a song, which will appear in a later chapter - I've just been lazy, lol. Also, I started this story on November 3, 2002, and unless my math is incorrect, that's almost 3 months ago, not quite a year yet...which I feel terrible for making **rose red** and **Rei.K** wait so long, when you guys begged for me not to - SO SORRY!!!! Huge thanks to my other reviewers: **Aya**, **Aude Weasley** (or whatever penname you feel like being today, lol, thanx for the email, i'll write you back soon!!), **INSANE1**, **treachery89**, and **Gerri**.


	3. Home Sweet Home

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Here's chapter 3 everyone!!!! Can I get 5 reviews before I post chapter 4?? Please?? Thanx, enjoy this chappy!!!!  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 3: Home Sweet Home**  
  
  
  
Saturday arrived too quickly for Draco. Friday had been nothing out of the usual, except for a few Slytherins quietly wishing him a Happy Birthday and a small Good Luck' for they all knew the real reason he was going home. He thanked them, his expressionless face giving no indication of fear or anxiety.  
  
Early Saturday morning, he sat in a train compartment alone, his trunk in the corner and his legs stretched out on the seat in front of him. He stared at the sky through the window; a hazy pink signaling daybreak as the sun began her rise into the sky. It made Draco feel even more gloomy - he felt like the sun was mocking him by its glorious ascent into the sky. It was saying Hah, every day is a new start for me, but you must suffer your fate from today on...there's no way out.  
  
There was no way out. _There..was..no..way..out_. This was it. Draco had no hope left; he gave up on hope a long time ago. He only depended on fate. And with the way things looked, fate was definitely against him.  
  
He wondered if it would hurt. He knew, from older Slytherins and his father, that the Dark Mark was burned into one's flesh. Draco shivered. That would hurt like hell. Then again, he was selling his soul to the devil himself. As he sat in silence pondering the pain of the Dark Mark, his father's words when he was younger came rushing back into his head.  
  
_You WILL become a Death Eater and you WILL want to. You WILL become a Death Eater and you WILL want to. You WILL become a Death Eater and you WILL want to. You WILL..._  
  
Lucius's voice continued to ring through Draco's mind and he shook his head furiously to stop the impounding words.  
  
You were wrong, Father. I DO NOT want to, and I NEVER will want to, become a Death Eater, he said defiantly.  
  
But I have to. Because of you, he whispered.  
  
~~~  
  
As could be expected, Lucius was waiting impatiently for Draco at the train station. Draco lifted and heaved his trunk towards the blond man, who had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot out of boredom. His silver gray eyes flared once his son approached him.  
  
Where the hell were you? The train left at 8:00, you should have been here at 10:00, not at 10:05!  
  
The train left late, Draco told him carelessly.  
  
Oh, and why was that? If you were the cause, I swear I will beat the shit out of you.  
  
Draco met his father's angry gaze. _Go figures he'd pitch a hissy fit over five minutes._ No, it wasn't me. I was on the train at 7:55. It must have been someone else.  
  
Lucius glared at him. You should haven been on the train at a quarter to eight for something this important. He roughly gripped Draco's arm and dragged him towards a portkey that would take them directly to the Manor. Now let's go. We must get you prepared.  
  
Five minutes later, the two appeared in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. House elves quickly rushed in to take their coats. Draco shoved his trunk into the hands of two of them, and they scurried away to put it in his room. He stood there, hands in pockets, waiting for his father to tell him to do something. Lucius began to walk toward his study and Draco assumed he was to follow.  
  
Once inside the study, the elder Malfoy took a seat in the chair that faced the burning fire. He held his snake scepter in his right hand while his left arm rested on the chair, propping up his chin. He stared into the fire deep in thought, so Draco knew it wise not to disturb him. Instead, he looked around the room.  
  
This was the room where all of his Dark Arts lessons were taught. The bookshelves were lined with books about Unforgivable curses and illegal potions and spells. They had been banned hundreds of year ago; yet his father had instructions for every one of them. Various objects of evil purposes were arranged artfully in a large glass cabinet in the left corner of the room. Draco shuddered as he remembered the intentions of those items. Most of which were sadistic techniques of torture.  
  
The blonde turned his attention to the layout of the room. Nothing had ever changed; all furniture was in the same position it had always been. Lucius's high-backed black velvet chair rested in the center of the room, a very expensive Persian rug settled beneath it, a small coffee table next to it, and the stone fireplace a few feet in front. A large, gold-framed black and white photograph of a young Tom Riddle hung above the fireplace while smaller, similarly framed pictures of the Malfoys, past and present, adorned the mantel. The massive bookshelves stood on both sides of the fireplace, and in the corner opposite of the glass cabinet was Lucius's dark mahogany desk, neatly organized and tidy. Draco stared down at the wooden floor outside of the Persian rug's limits until his eyes landed on a nail that jutted up from the wooden planks sharply.  
  
He closed his eyes momentarily as painful memories invaded his mind. So, so many physical and verbal beatings also occurred in this room. He couldn't even count the amount of times he was shoved into the bookshelves, or kicked into the desk. Any time his father wanted to lash out on him, it was in this room.  
  
Draco, are you there?  
  
The blond's head snapped up to meet his father's cold gaze. Sorry, Father. I was just thinking and got carried away.  
  
Lucius lifted himself out of his seat so he now stood in front of his son. Well, that better end right now. You need to pay full attention to everything that's going to happen today, you hear me?  
  
Draco nodded solemnly. The elder Malfoy began to pace back and forth in front of the younger Malfoy.  
  
Now, a few last minute reminders. You are never to look our lord in the eyes unless he orders you to. While being brandished with the Dark Mark, you will display no emotion on your face, nor will you make any noise. That shows weakness, and Lord Voldemort does not want any unworthy followers. You will show the utmost respect for the Dark Lord, or you will be punished. And not just by me, he said cruelly. Do you understand?  
  
Draco desperately wanted to roll his eyes. His father sounded like he was reading a list from a book. _You will do this_, _You are not to do that_, _You cannot try this_...instead he just replied, Yes, Father.  
  
Lucius Malfoy smiled his twisted little smile. You are to wear your most formal robes. I have ordered the house elves to prepare a bath for you in an hour. Go amuse yourself until then.  
  
Draco walked toward the doorway before turning again. His father paused to look at him questioningly.  
  
Do you know where Mum is?  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes dismissively and continued pacing. Oh, this morning the stupid bitch was complaining about her poor aching body', so I'd assume she is in her room resting or some shit like that.  
  
The young boy leaning on the doorframe boiled with anger. _Probably because you used her as a punching bag again_, he thought as his eyes narrowed.  
  
Lucius saw the reaction and strolled over to where Draco stood. He hated how Narcissa was so close to Draco, and he so protective of her. It was the only vulnerability he saw in his son. But to Lucius Malfoy, it was one vulnerability too many.  
  
I'm warning you, Draco, he hissed, if you make one mistake, even a minor one, because nothing is minor to the lord, I can guarantee you won't live to see tomorrow.  
  
It angered him that his son nodded, just accepting the blatant threat as if it was no big deal. He immediately blamed this careless, emotionless manner on his son, forgetting that he was the one who taught him to act like this. The threat should be a big deal and it should matter. He smiled evilly.  
  
And trust me, your mother won't see many more happy days either.  
  
This, obviously, mattered to Draco. His eyes widened; first in shock; then in fear; and finally in anger. He stood up straight and glared at his father, who was now only about five inches taller at six foot.  
  
Leave her out of this, he growled. She has nothing to do with it, it's all me! Don't you dare lay another -   
  
_Smack._ He landed on the floor with a thud and blinked. He should have anticipated that. He shouldn't have let his anger control the words that left his mouth, especially in his father's presence. But he did, and could taste the blood seeping into his mouth as his father glared down at him.  
  
Don't _you_ dare tell _me_ what to do. I am your father, and I will do whatever I please in this house. Now get out of my sight, you little bastard.  
  
He began to close the study doors. One mistake, Draco. One mistake and you are done.  
  
The doors shut, leaving the bleeding teen to stare at them with nothing but fury.  
  
  
~~~  
Like I said, 5 reviews before I post chapter 4..or if I finish it...whichever comes first, lol. Hopefully, it will be the reviews...hint hint...  
  
**my twin sis' d:** I got so excited today when I logged on and there was a review from you..I was like, Danielley reviewed, whoo hoo!!! Not only that, you reviewed my other 2 stories also, I feel so loved!! Thanks!! I had another one, an original, but I don't know where it went, lol. And sorry I haven't called you - I was holed up writing, scared that you'd come and tie me to a chair!! AHHHH...lol   
**randomLore:** Thanx for the review, I adore little Draky too...and the big one!! Your welcome for the reviews, Unlikely Alliance is awesome..**EVERYBODY GO READ IT!!! NOW!!! AND REVIEW!!**..I'm not sure if I reviewed chapter 3, but I'll check once I've posted this chapter..Thanks again!   
**Fain Oakenbringer:** You're forgiven for the year ago thing, I misread things all the time, lol. Life Swap will be updated this week b/c I have winter break, so take a few relaxing breaths :) And the bold and italics, I'm really not sure how to do it, b/c I have an iMac and don't use Word like normal ppl do, lol. So sorry I can't help ya there, thanx for the review!!   
**Aude Weasley:** Yes, feel sorry for Draco, love Draco, worship Draco!!!...Erm, yeah, thanx for the review. Did you ever get your stories on Fictionalley.org??   
**Rei.K:** I wrote this as quickly as I could b/c I was afraid of what you and Danielle would do to me if I didn't get it up soon, lol. Thanks so much for the review!!


	4. Calm Before The Storm

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Wow, you guys made a real fool of me! Here I am thinking, oh, I only got 13 reviews for two chapters, so 5 for one shouldn't come too quickly'...and I ended up with double what I had!!! I really underestimated my reviewers, so sorry...and I only had Chapter 4 partially written!! So, I sat down all day yesterday and wrote TWO chapters. Chapter 5 will go up soon...maybe ;) More details later...Also, this chapter may be a little mushy, cause I think it's absolutely adorable when a guy has a close relationship with his mom, lol, and I expanded on that. So enjoy!!  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 4: Calm Before The Storm  
  
**

_  
  
It takes a lot to know what is love  
It's not the big things, but the little things  
That can mean enough*_  


  
  
  
After fixing his lip with a wave of his wand, Draco trudged up stairs and down hallways until he came to his mother's room. He knocked and waited. A soft voice beckoned him to enter. When he did, he was greeted by the sight of his smiling mother sitting in bed, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by cloth and thread.  
  
Draco! I was wondering when you were planning on paying me a visit.  
  
He smiled. Hi Mum. I would have come here immediately, but Monster Git decided to threaten me for a while, so I couldn't exactly leave.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy smiled sympathetically. Yes, he's been very tense with today's initiation. It's all he's been talking and worrying about.  
  
Draco shrugged and looked at her. She had pale, pale skin and caramel colored hair which fell in long curls around her face. She had the bluest eyes Draco had ever seen, his own being the only possible rivals. Small pink lips rested under a slightly pointed nose, and were always raised in a smile at Draco. He smiled back and sat down next to her on the bed. He realized he only genuinely smiled when in his mother's presence.  
  
So how have things been around here lately?  
  
Narcissa sighed. Well, with the upcoming initiation, there's been more drinking and later returns to the Manor. Other than that, it's been the usual.  
  
Draco fumed. The usual. Lucius would get drunk at home from his plentiful supply of fine wines and then beat Narcissa until he passed out. Or, he would go out and get drunk and do Merlin-knows-what with Merlin-knows-who. Draco figured he cheated on Narcissa frequently, and even suspected he raped her on more than one occasion, but he could never get it out of her. Seeing his mother with bruises from his father made him ashamed to be a Malfoy. It was a fact that Malfoy men thought little of women other than being sex toys or mothers to their offspring, and Draco had never let that bother him. But he couldn't accept his mother being treated like that; it hurt him too much. It just wasn't fair. Especially since he was the reason behind the recent extra abuse.  
  
Honey, it's not your fault, Narcissa said as if she had read his mind, gently touching his arm.  
  
Yes, it is. He was more violent because of _my_ initiation, he said stubbornly. And you don't deserve it.  
  
She looked down and concentrated on her sewing. And neither do you, Draco. But there's nothing we can do.  
  
You could just leave him.  
  
  
  
Go live with your cousins in France, they would protect you.  
  
  
  
Honestly, Mum! You could do it. I'd help you if you want.  
  
Narcissa looked at her son's pleading face. Draco, I'm not leaving you to deal with him alone. I couldn't do that to you.  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back into the headboard. It won't matter. After today I'm bound to Voldemort, and will probably be killed or sent to Azkaban once that dumb arse Potter figures out how to kill him. But you - you can leave! Go to Paris, start your own fashion company. Make something of yourself; don't waste your talent sewing little things here. Mum, please?  
  
He turned his head sideways to look at her. She smiled sadly, pulled him closer, and gave him a kiss on his temple. You know I love you, right sweetheart? she murmured into his hair.  
  
Yes, Mum, I know, he sighed as he rested his head on her shoulder. As usual, his begging got him nowhere. Narcissa always brushed off he conversation, refusing to listen to him. He sighed again.  
  
So how was your 16th birthday? she asked changing the topic.  
  
It was just a normal day.  
  
A normal day? No presents?  
  
I got a few Happy Birthdays from the Slytherins who knew, and Professor Snape saved me from detention with McGonagall, but no gifts.  
  
Well, of course you didn't get any gifts, his mother stated. Because they're all in my wardrobe!  
  
Draco lifted his head and watched as she shuffled out of bed. He could see a few black and blue marks on her neck where her light pink robes didn't cover. Rage filled him once again. Why her? She was nothing less than perfect in his eyes. Her maiden name, Angellette, meant Little Angel'. And that's exactly what she was - an angel. She was beautiful inside and out. She was the sweetest and most generous person Draco had ever known. And the only person to ever love him. She didn't deserve abuse - she had never done anything horribly wrong. The only mistake she had ever made was marrying his father.  
  
She was now walking gracefully back to her bed with a few wrapped gifts in her arms. She moved her sewing tools aside and climbed back onto the bed.  
  
Happy 16th Birthday Draco! she said excitedly, handing him the gifts.  
  
He forgot his anger as he smiled over her eagerness. She always acted like this when it came to gift giving. It proved her genuine selfless nature.  
  
He unwrapped the first gift, and his eyes lit up. It was this year's edition of _Quidditch International_, a book that gave statistics and records of every Quidditch team in the world as well as highlights from the last season. He grinned at his mother; he was going to enjoy reading that immensely. The next gift he unwrapped was a small rectangular velvet box. Inside was a silver chain with a strange charm attached.  
  
You don't really have any good necklaces to wear all the time, so I thought you might like that. It's the Chinese symbol for dragon'. I thought getting a chain that said Draco' would be too girly, she chuckled.  
  
Draco laughed. Thank you.  
  
She smiled. Your welcome. Open the last one.  
  
The last gift turned out to be another box, but much larger than the first and made of cardboard. When he opened it, he found a sketchpad and a brand new box of Aloyarc's colored pencils. Aloyarc is a wizarding company famous for making drawing, coloring, and painting products. These colored pencils could change tones depending on what the user desired. For example, after coloring with the blue pencil, one could decide to make it sky blue or navy blue.  
  
I figured you were running low on drawing supplies by now.  
  
Draco nodded, I was. I draw a lot at night when I can't sleep.  
  
Draco was a very talented artist. It was probably his biggest secret. Ever since he was younger, he liked to look at things and then try to duplicate what he saw on paper. Of course, they started out like many preschooler's drawing - scribbling - but had progressed into real talent. He had drawn and painted constantly, and his mother had many pictures of different household object or rooms. She had kept every single one of the pictures he had drawn through the years. Well, except the portrait of the house elf he tied to a chair that had been painted on the dining room wall. Now, at sixteen, he was a very detailed and precise artist. He mainly drew in his sketchpad at school, but painted when he was home.  
  
Thank you, Mum. I think I'll start a new picture right now, since I have a little while.  
  
Narcissa smiled. Your welcome dear. She started to sew again but frowned when Draco gathered his belongings and moved off the bed to a chair across from her. What's wrong? I don't have cooties, do I?  
  
Draco flashed her a boyish grin, but it's hard to draw someone when they're sitting right next to you.  
  
  
  
About a half an hour later, a house elf knocked timidly on the door.   
  
Lolly is here to tell young Master Malfoy his bath is ready. Whenever he is ready, sir.  
  
Draco glanced at the creature. I'll be there in a minute. You may leave.  
  
Yes, Master Draco, sir, the elf squeaked as she left.  
  
Narcissa watched her son collect his things. He then turned to her. She couldn't be more proud or heartbroken at the sight. He stood like a soldier, valiantly straight and tall, his face set in stone, ready to accept his fate. But then his eyes, those bright blue eyes. They were filled with fear, anger...and defeat. Lucius had won out over him as he had over her. As Draco leaned down to embrace her, she caught sight of something else in his eyes. Tears.  
  
Don't be scared, baby, she whispered.  
  
I'll try, he said smiling as he blinked the tears back. I love you Mum.  
  
As Narcissa watched the door close behind him, a tear slid down her cheek. Her son's future had been destroyed. And she had been powerless to stop it. Absolutely powerless.  
  
  
  
~~~  
*Lyrics from the Backstreet Boys' _The Perfect Fan_  
  
Okay, well, Chapter 5 is 100% written, so all I have to do is type it, and I'm sure all of you are dying to read it to find out if Draco becomes a Death Eater...but there's a catch. In order to get the chapter someone has to answer the following question correctly: **How did I come up with the name of the wizarding company that makes Draco's colored pencils?** It's not too difficult; just think of companies that we have out there today. That's the only hint I'll give. Good luck!! ;)  
**  
Slytherin Psyche:** Thank you so much for the reviews! It makes me feel really special that someone thinks I'm talented. Yes, I think J.K.Rowling should give a little more exposure of Draco's life, or Slytherin life in general, to the public, but whatever - if she doesn't, we'll just have to do it ourselves, won't we? :) I will definitely read your story once I've posted this; it looks very interesting from the summary. Once again, thanks so much!!  
**twin:** Danielle, you have discovered the art of cliffhangers. Hate them all you want, but they're a writer's best friend. The act of leaving ppl begging for more; sucha great tool. LoL, thanks for the review!  
**randomLore:** You have an iMac too - how cool!! LoL, mine's purple :) I love Appleworks, it's so much easier than Word. I was trying to explain to someone else how to do the bold & italics, but thanks for taking the time to explain it too. And of course I recommended your story - it's awesome, and on my Favorites. Thanks for the review!!  
**Rei.K:** Sorry about the short chapters, I'll try to make them longer but I can't guarantee anything. Thanks so much for the review!!  
  
And muchos gracias to all the rest of you awesome ppl that reviewed chapter 3: **Akina**, **Mac n' Cheese**, **Airna**, **INSANE1**, **shrev**, **jessi**, and **lecanda chan**!!!  
  



	5. The Dark Mark

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Ahh, I love you guys so much!! The reviews make me wanna cry :) And you should all worship the ground **Airna** walks on, cause she figured out the answer first (Aloyarc is Crayola spelled backwards), and congrats to **crazyfriendsfan** and **Slytherin Psyche** who also figured it out. Such smart reviewers...Special thanks to **Mac n' Cheese** for recommending my story to **crazyfriendsfan**!!!  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 5: The Dark Mark**  
  
  
  
Lucius Malfoy paced impatiently on the Persian rug in his study. He was decked out in a black hooded robe and his ghastly mask concealed his face. Draco stood off to the side, eyes on the ground and arms at this sides. He was dressed in his most formal black robes and his hair was slicked back perfectly. The fire crackled quietly to his right, while his stomach flipped nervously.  
  
Suddenly the fire roared and changed to a bright green. Two figures emerged from it shortly thereafter. One was short and stumpy, and wore a robe and mask similar to Lucius's. He wrung his hands anxiously.  
  
The other figure was tall and very thin. He had an ashen colored face and cold black eyes that gleamed maliciously. He wore a very expensive black robe from which his gnarly fingers protruded. He had a condescending manner about him, and held his head high. Draco immediately bowed his head. This was none other than Lord Voldemort himself.  
  
he drawled in a raspy voice whilst nodding at the man.  
  
Lucius dropped to his knees, hands at his sides and head bent like Draco's. My Lord, he murmured.  
  
Voldemort turned to Draco. You must be young Draco.  
  
Draco fell to his knees just as his father had. Yes, my Lord, he said, silently thankful his voice didn't crack.  
  
Voldemort nodded in approval, even though neither Lucius or Draco could see.  
  
You are fully aware that what you are about to do is extremely important, boy? he asked, slowly circling around the kneeling teen.  
  
Yes. I do, my Lord.  
  
And you are willing to fulfill all your duties as one of my followers?  
  
Yes. I am, my Lord.  
  
And you will hold whatever we discuss or plan in complete secrecy, even if your life depends on it?  
  
Yes. I will, my Lord.  
  
What do you expect to achieve as one of my Death Eaters?  
  
I hope to earn your respect by doing what you wish me to, my Lord. I want to do whatever I must in order for you to gain your righteous amount of power, my Lord, Draco repeated the words his father had drilled into him.  
  
Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the blond boy, a cold smile forming on his lips. Mmm, well done, Lucius. You have done an impressive job of training your son.  
  
Thank you, my Lord, the elder Malfoy said, beaming under his robe and mask.  
  
And you are sure he is ready?  
  
Positive, my Lord.  
  
The cold smile turned cruel. Very well then. We shall see. Hopefully I will have another worthy follower in my legion tonight. He turned to Peter. Get the ink ready, he barked.  
  
Ye-yes, my Lord.  
  
Voldemort sat down in Lucius's chair in front of the fireplace while Peter scurried around mixing things in a small cauldron. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes in disgust.  
  
I don't know why I keep you around, Pettigrew. You're so clumsy. If you hadn't turned those blasted Potters into me, you would have been dead years ago.  
  
So, so sorry, m-my Lord.  
  
Yes. You should be.  
  
Peter tried to quiet down, but was only louder in the process. Voldemort surveyed the hoodless figure kneeling on the ground. The way the boy spoke, with reverence and solemnity, made him a perfect candidate for a Death Eater. The Dark Lord sensed a rebellion and stubbornness in him, but those could be fixed easily. Otherwise, he was going to become a very useful follower; especially since he attended school with Potter.  
  
Boy, stand up.  
  
Draco did as he was told, still staring at the ground.  
  
Come over here.  
  
He padded over noiselessly.  
  
See how quiet he was, Pettigrew? You should be like that.  
  
Yes, yes, my Lord.  
  
Lift your head, Draco.  
  
Draco did so slowly until his cerulean eyes met black bottomless pits. They held so much malice and evil, and an acrid thirst for power. Draco pushed all emotion out of his eyes as Voldemort looked him over.  
  
he mused,You will make a fine Death Eater. Pettigrew, is the ink ready?  
  
Yes, my Lord.  
  
Good. Well bring it over here, Voldemort drawled impatiently. Lucius get over here and hold his sleeve up. Pettigrew, hopefully you will be able to manage holding my book.  
  
Both Death Eaters did as they were told. Draco continued to stare impassively, waiting for the dark wizard to tell him to do something. Voldemort pulled out his wand as Peter opened the book.  
  
Lift up your left arm.  
  
Draco did so and Lucius rolled his sleeve up. The Dark Lord began reading a Latin incantation. Draco tried to follow along, but couldn't translate the entire thing. As the reading came to an end, Voldemort looked up at Draco.  
  
Do you, Draco Malfoy, solemnly swear to fulfill your duties as a Death Eater, and perform all your tasks with honor and diligence?  
  
Draco paused for a millisecond, but the Dark Lord didn't seem to notice. But Lucius did, for his grip tightened on Draco's arm.  
  
I do.  
  
Now I place a symbol on your arm that represents your bond to me, Lord Voldemort, the Most Powerful Dark Wizard of all time and heir to the almighty Salazar Slytherin.  
  
He dipped his wand into the ink Peter had mixed before and held it above Draco's upper left arm.  
  
_Vos es iam a atrum secuutus_, he hissed, which translated means You are now a dark follower'.  
  
Draco felt as if he exploded as the tip of the wand touched his skin. It sent a white hot burning sensation onto his arm, and he fought relentlessly against crying out. Waves of nausea, dizziness, and hot flashes rippled through his body as he tried to keep his face straight. His jaw was slightly clenched and his eyes were watering up. He was tempted to pass out cold on the floor right then and there. But as quickly as the pain started, it stopped.   
  
Draco blinked once, the water in his eyes disappearing. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to look inconspicuous. It obviously worked, for the Dark Lord didn't punish or insult him.  
  
Yes, you are going to become a great Death Eater indeed, Voldemort stated.  
  
Draco bowed in response, finally getting a glimpse of his upper arm. There was the symbol of loyalty to Lord Voldemort, the black ink of the skull and snakes which slithered out of its mouth gleaming in the light of the fire.  
  
Draco Malfoy was now a Death Eater.  
  
  
  
Lord Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew departed shortly after Voldemort personally gave Draco a mask and hooded robe. Normally, the Death Eater was responsible for getting it himself. The roaring of the fire died down once they left and silence engulfed the room as Lucius removed his hood and mask and showed Draco the secret place he kept his. After he learned how to remove the certain stones in the fireplace that concealed the Death Eater garb, his father faced him with his arms crossed sternly.  
  
You hesitated.  
  
Draco pretended not to know what he was talking about. Ex-excuse me?  
  
Do not play dumb. When he was swearing you in. _You hesitated_.  
  
The blond didn't know what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Which happened to be a very foolish thing to say.  
  
The Dark Lord didn't seem to mind.  
  
The only thing Draco saw before he was hurled into the bookshelf behind him was Lucius's eyes blaze with anger. A few books fell on top of him when his back hit a shelf and he slumped down to the ground. Only to be yanked back up by his shoulders.  
  
HE DIDN'T SEEM TO MIND? That is the lamest bullshit I have ever heard! This is Lord Voldemort we are talking about. What did I tell you before? **Nothing** is minor to the Dark Lord.  
  
Draco's head was feeling fuzzy from the heavy book that had landed there before. I-I'm sorry! he cried out meekly.  
  
Lucius glared at him and let go of his shoulders. You should be, you little son of a bitch, he spat before punching the teen in the eye. Draco fell to the floor, his vision now becoming blurry in one eye, his hands over his head in an attempt at protection.  
  
What did I tell you before if you made a mistake? Huh? Lucius violently kicked Draco in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to keel over.  
  
That I...I won't see...tomorrow, he gasped, clutching his stomach trying to catch his breath.  
  
Lucius smiled sadistically at the boy on the floor. Why, that's correct, Draco! I think you get a prize for that one.  
  
He pulled out his wand.   
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut as convulsions of pain shot through his body, making him writhe around. They stopped quickly, leaving him panting on the floor.  
  
But not for long.   
  
Draco bit his lip as the pain overtook him again, his expression one of pure agony, and he desperately struggled against yelling out. He refused to let his father have the satisfaction of hearing him scream in pain. The convulsions subsided again, only to be thrown at him a few more times.  
  
When Lucius finally got bored of torturing his son, Draco was left tattered and weak on the floor. He was panting heavily and his lip was bleeding tremendously from him biting it. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face and he trembled from the aftershock of the Cruciatus Curse. His mouth was parched except for the blood from his lip, and he had a few other bleeding cuts from sliding around on the floor. A large gash from the edge of the desk had formed on his right cheek, while a nail in the floor had torn his pant leg and ripped a long, but not deep, cut from his knee down to his mid-calf. Encountering the bookcase a few more times had showered him with books, which had given him a large bruise on the side of his thigh, and a few on his back. His vision was blurry and he heard a loud buzzing in his head. His father's voice cut through the fog that was developing around him.  
  
The only reason I'm letting you live is because the Dark Lord seems to think you will be helpful to our cause, he drawled nastily. Otherwise, you would already be dead.  
  
He walked over to his chair and sat down. Now leave. I am done with you.  
  
Draco started to pull himself up, but his arms were wobbly and the buzzing was getting much louder. Pretty soon he thought his father would hear it. Once he managed to pull himself onto his arms, he started to crawl towards the door, knowing he was too feeble to stand. Lucius saw the injured boy dragging himself slowly and, irritated at the speed, picked up his wand.  
  
Oh, for Merlin's sake! I wasn't _that_ harsh on you, he smirked as he pointed the wand at his son.  
  
_Wingardium leviosa_.  
  
Draco felt a great weight lift off his shoulders as his body was raised four feet off the ground. The scenery floated by as he sailed through the door. Once out of the study, Lucius let him linger in the air before laughing cruelly and flicking his wand.  
  
The motion slammed the door shut and dropped Draco's body into a heap on the ground. He curled up into a fetal position before slipping into unconsciousness. He was out cold.  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
That hurt me to write, poor Draco :*( Thanks so much for all the reviews, really they make me feel so special. As for Chapter 6, it will be a VERY angsty and emotional chapter, it will probably be my favorite, and will include the song that I use to get me in the mood to write this story. But, I have 2 other stories I need to update before my vacation is over, and if I have time, I'll come back to this one. Once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS!!!!!!   
  
For all you _Life Swap_ fans, stay tuned for Chapter 3, for Draco enters the world of acting...dun dun dun...


	6. Despair

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. The song I'm Okay belongs to the extremely talented Christina Aguilera, not I.  
  
**A/N:** So sorry about the late update! I've been quite busy with life lately ::rolls eyes:: But I didn't make the softball team, so I'll have extra time to write :) And spring break is in a month, so look forward to a few updates then. I recommend downloading I'm Okay because it's the song I've based the entire story on, and it really sets the mood for this chapter. I've changed a few of the words to fit Draco (she/her to he/him, etc.). It's also a really well sung song...but what else would you expect from Christina? Hehe.  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 6: Despair**  
  
  
Draco stormed through the Slytherin common room. None of his housemates commented as he swept by. He had been in rare form ever since he had returned to Hogwarts two weeks ago. The simplest things pissed him off. As if to illustrate this point, Draco glared menacingly at a second year that almost tripped him by accident as he reached the staircase. No one understood this behavior, and it had raised a few questions. Was he denied the opportunity to become a Death Eater? Had the Dark Lord insulted him? If he had received the Dark Mark, was he upset to finally be a Death Eater?  
  
No. No. YES. Draco laid on his bed wearing silk black pajama pants and a black muscle tee, his hands beneath his head. A single candle lit the room, casting a small glow on everything in the room except the pale black clad figure who was hidden behind the bed curtains. He was thoroughly outraged by the fact that he was now a servant to someone, a mere slave. Never to live his own life.  
  
He snorted and ran a hand through his blond hair, which he hadn't bothered to gel lately. He had never been given the privilege to think for himself. Lucius had molded Draco into another version of himself. He had instilled all his beliefs, opinions, and goals into the boy, leaving Draco with no mind of his own.  
  
Draco stood and up and walked over to his bureau. He leaned over to look into the mirror, disgusted at how much he resembled his father. Platinum blond hair, high cheekbones, slightly pointed noise, and mouth that formed a smirk more times than not. The only difference was their eyes. Lucius had cold, empty, cruel silver gray eyes while Draco had inherited his mother's bright, warm, sapphire ones. They now stared back at him displaying an amount of pain no human being should ever have to experience, let alone a sixteen year old. He recalled his past, all memories of his father and every attempted endeavor to please him. And every defeat and its consequences. Draco lowered his head and gazed absentmindedly at the bureau where his hands were planted, while a familiar childhood bewilderment crept into his chest.  
  
_What had he ever done to deserve this abuse?_  
  
Sure, he knew he was never, and never would be, good enough for his father, nor ever meet his standards. He had been a stubborn and determined child, but had never been intolerable or severely misbehaved. Yet, he was a human punching bag - kicked, hit, punched, slapped, and shoved at Lucius's pleasure. He would never understand how a man could brutally beat his own son and not care. That's what Draco hated. His father _didn't care_. A guilty conscience never plagued him because he didn't give a shit about the way he treated his family. They were just toys to him, pawns he played with and then discarded, no love involved.  
  
Like most children did, Draco had grown up idolizing his father, thinking he could do no wrong. Which was why any abuse dealt felt it was deserved; that he, Draco, had been the problem. Now he knew that wasn't the case. And no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to please him, Lucius Malfoy had never, and would never, love him. And that's what hurt the most. He may be Draco Malfoy; prat extraordinnaire, enemy of Harry Potter, pretty little rich boy; but it still hurt - a deep ache within that would never go away - that his own father would never ever love him.  
  
Something warm and wet dropped onto his finger. Draco watched it roll off his finger and form a tiny puddle on the wood. His fascination deterred him momentarily from the salty tast that seeped into his mouth. His eyes widened and he lifted his head slowly until he met his reflection again. A glistening trail of tears flowed from his eyes, which were filled with astonishment. The tears kept raining off his chin and cheeks. He had forgotten what it was like to cry.  
  
While he watched, he noticed the concealment potion wearing off. The perfect, pale white skin of his arms and face melted away to reveal similarly pale skin speckled with bruises and cuts. He glowered as he remembered why they were there. A feeling of undescribable fury surged through his body, and he did the first thing that came to mind. A very strong swift punch shattered his reflection.  
  


_Once upon a time there was a boy  
In his early years he had to learn  
How to grow up living in a war that he called home  
Never knew just where to turn for shelter from the storm  
It hurt me to see the pain cross my mother's face  
Every time my father's fist would put her in her place  
Hearing all the yelling, I would cry up in my room  
Hoping it would be over soon_  


  
Heart-wrenching sobs escaped his mouth as he pound the already shattered glass into minuscule shards. He didn't even care about the now bleeding cuts that adorned his hands. The pain didn't compare to the anguish burning inside of him.  
  


_Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid  
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave  
And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_  


  
Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he dropped down to his knees on the glass littered floor. Shards ripped through his pants and embedded themselves into his skin. He dropped his head and placed his raw, blood-stained hands in the pool of glass to steady himself. A flood of blood and a storm of tears soon joined the glass pool.  
  


_I often wonder why I carry all this guilt  
When it's you that helped me put up all these walls I've built  
Shadows stir at night through a crack in the door  
Echoes of a broken child screaming please no more  
Daddy don't you understand the damage you have done  
For you it's just a memory but for me it still lives on_  


  
Draco could never, would never, live for himself. He was just a puppet, controlled on tight strings by his father. He would always live in his father's shadow and be forced into things; nothing would ever be his own choice. Like becoming a Death Eater. He glanced down at the black ink of the Dark Mark. He had never wanted that and still didn't want it. Suddenly, the urge to get rid of it overwhelmed him. It repulsed him; he wanted it gone. He crawled through the glass until he found a large, sharp fragment.  
  


_Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so, so afraid  
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave  
And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_  


  
Sitting up, he put the edge at the top of the Dark Mark. Slowly, he applied pressure and ran the point along the shape of the skull. The steady rivers of tears increased as he traced the entire mark. Now all that could be seen was a bloody outline of Voldemort's symbol. This still didn't satisfy Draco. He didn't want it visible at all. Taking a deep breath he began to tear at his skin, forming deep jagged cuts along his arm, letting out agonizing wails as he did so. Through his blurry vision he saw that the mark was now nothing more than trenches of ripped skin and blood.  
  


_It's not so easy to forget  
All the marks you left along her neck  
When I was thrown against cold stairs  
And everyday afraid to come home in fear of what I might see, next_  


  
Draco stood shakily, still angry and hurt. He clumsily kicked over his night stand. He crossed the room, trailing large amounts of blood, to his desk. Leaning against it, he began to disperse his school materials. Books were violently hurled across the room in every direction. Blank parchment was savagely torn to pieces, fluttering slowly to the ground. His cauldron was furiously launched at a wall, making a loud bang. No matter; his room was soundproof. His wand was tossed carelessly under the window, quills flung all over the room, and an ink jar chucked at his wardrobe door where it splattered ink all over the door and floor. Various other objects were tossed and thrown at breakneck speeds to the opposite side of the room. In the process, Draco's bed curtains were ripped and the candle extinguished.  
  


_Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid  
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave  
And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday_  


  
Draco surveyed the damage, slightly aware that the room was spinning. It would be fixed with a quick _Repairo_' he just needed his wand. It had landed near the wall under the window. Gripping his bleeding arm, he stumbled through the rubble in the dark towards the partially moonlit window. After all, he _was_ in the dungeons. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he leaned against the corner of the two walls for support until it passed. But it didn't. He felt his legs give out under him, and his body sunk to the floor in defeat. He was awfully drowsy. He pulled his legs up and hugged his knees to his chest, and rested his head against the wall behind him. Tears still streamed down his face, and his body shook with sobs. His left arm throbbed and blood still trickled down it. He gazed out the window, flexing his stiff hands. He felt light headed, and very tired - oh so tired.  
  
Draco's tears finally ceased and the sobs died down as his eyes closed and blackness swallowed him.  
  


_Bruises fade father but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid  
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave  
And every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday  
  
_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*~*~*  
There ya go. Can't really tell ya when to expect Chapter 7. I don't think this story will be much longer, but I'm not sure. Please **REVIEW**!!!!  
  
**AkinaMeigatsuno:** Yes, everybody should love Draco ::sigh:: LoL, I'm glad my story influenced you :) Thanks for the review!  
  
**Slytherin Psyche:** Haha! Great idea!! Thanks for the review!!  
  
**Micha:** I hate to disappoint you, but nope, Draco will not be falling in love with Harry, nor will there be any shagging or snogging. There probably won't even be any romance in this story at all. So sorry :( But, thanks for your review!!  
  
**Ice Angel:** Yes, I know Draco's eyes are gray, and not blue. As you saw in this chapter, I wanted some part of his features different from Lucius's, so I picked his eyes. But thanks for telling me and for your review!!  
  
And thank you so much for the rest of your wonderful feedback!! I especially liked some people's comments about hurting Lucius - I am with you 100%!!! :)_  
_


	7. Respect Lost

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N: **Hello all!! I seriously meant to get this chapter up two weekends ago, but I decided to watch Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets three times, so nothing really got done ::grins sheepishly:: Then last weekend was Easter so I was kinda busy with family and all, and then there was a death in the family this week.....But none of you care, so just go ahead and read the chapter!!!   
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 7: Respect Lost**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
No reply.   
  
Still no reply. The professor looked up to see the Gryffindor's seat next to Ron empty. Weasley, where is Potter?  
  
The red head looked up at his teacher. He had an accident with the Tentacle Plant we were studying in Herbology this morning. It attacked him. He's been in the hospital wing ever since.  
  
The teacher nodded and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like Smart plant before resuming the rolecall.  
  
  
  
  
  
And Weasley is here. He marked something in his book while turning towards the Slytherins. He knew they would all be there; Slytherins _never_ missed Potions with the Gryffindors - it was too entertaining. Just to double check, Snape did a quick head count to make sure.  
  
Once he was finished, he did it again. And again. Each time he was one student short. He scanned the faces. A pale, smirking one was missing between the two globs of flesh that considered themselves human beings. Malfoy.  
  
Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, where is Mr. Malfoy?  
  
The two stared at each other, dumbfounded, and shrugged.  
  
Don't know, Professor, Goyle said.  
  
Snape glared at them. Why was he not surprised? Was he in your first period class?  
  
They seemed to think about it. That was History of Magic so we were asleep, Crabbe finally remembered.  
  
Draco wasn't in first period, Professor Snape. He usually sits right next to me, but today his seat was empty. He wasn't at breakfast either.  
  
Professor Snape shot a grateful glance at Pansy. Thank you, Miss Parkinson. Was he in the common room at all this morning?  
  
Pansy shook her head. Millicent Bulstrode piped in, We haven't seen him since he stormed up to his room last night at about nine thirty.  
  
The Potion Master raised an eyebrow. He was slightly alarmed. Malfoy go to bed at _nine thirty_? And still be asleep? Something was terribly wrong here. Have any of you tried knocking on his door to see if maybe he just slept in?  
  
The Slytherins all shook their heads vehemently.  
  
Draco is not a morning person, sir. There was no way any of us were going anywhere near him, especially with the mood he's been in lately. It would be highly dangerous, Blaise informed him.  
  
Snape rolled his eyes at them and sighed. Very well. I suppose I will go find him once I explain your assignment.  
  
He proceeded in doing so, his worry increasing. He wasn't the kind of teacher to care about his students, but Draco was one of his best. Also being a friend of Lucius Malfoy, he visited Malfoy Manor often and watched the young boy grow up. Draco was a pretty conscientious student and rarely missed classes. His absence in _Potions _of all classes was a red flag for trouble.  
  
Now, I want you to sit here and complete your work in a _behaved_ manner. No foolish wand waving or petty arguments. Just work. If any nonsense takes place, two hundred points will be taken from _both_ houses, irregardless of who provoked it. Do you all understand?   
  
He pointedly stared down his house to establish that he meant what he said. All the students nodded solemnly. Good. I will be right back.  
  
He exited the room and turned left, walking briskly towards the Slytherin common room. He recited the password (Silver venom) and entered, observing the common room. No Malfoy playing hookey down here. With an impatient growl, he climbed the stairs to Draco's room and knocked.  
  
Mr. Malfoy, I would like to inform you that you have missed almost two of your classes.  
  
No answer, no sound of hurried scrambling around to hide, no frantic rustling of bed covers at the information. Just dead silence.  
  
Snape knocked again. Mr. Malfoy, this is in no way amusing.  
  
Nothing. Absolutely no sign of life.  
  
  
  
Again, no reply.  
  
The greasy haired man reached out and twisted the door handle. Locked. He pulled out his wand.  
  
  
  
He blinked when the lock did nothing. He smirked; the boy was not stupid. He didn't use the normal locking spell for which all his housemates knew the counterspell. He must have used an older locking spell. Snape searched through his memory for the counterspell. He nodded once he remembered and pointed his wand.  
  
  
  
The lock clicked and the potions teacher pushed open the door. His eyes widened. The only resemblance that came to mind as he surveyed the room was the result of a tornado. A very violent tornado. Shards of glass littered the floor under Draco's bureau mingled with what can be assumed was blood. Walking further into the room, he saw books, quills, and pieces of paper scattered around. Dried ink stained a small section of the wardrobe door and an extinguished candle lay in a puddle of hardened wax. The bed curtains were torn and through the gaps Snape concluded that Draco was not occupying the bed. Then where the hell is he?  
  
The question was answered once Snape came around the other side of the bed. He momentarily froze at the sight. There slumped in a corner was a very pale and seemingly lifeless Draco Malfoy. Except he wasn't only pale. He had bruises and cuts dotting his face and arms that were almost as numerous as Weasley's freckles. The lower portion of his left arm was coated in dry blood and his black pants had minuscule rips in them. Snape stared before finally taking action. He rushed over and grabbed Draco's wrist, checking for a pulse. His skin was ice cold and Snape was having trouble finding a pulse. He gently dropped Draco's wrist and reached for his neck. Relief flooded through him as he detected a faint pulse and saw the almost imperceptible rise and fall of Draco's chest. Now that he was closer he was astonished to see streaks of dried tears lining the youth's cheeks. He also noticed that a majority of the cuts and bruises were faded; just scars, scabs, and vague traces of what must have been large bruises. Deciding that Draco did not have enough time for him to go seek help, Snape scooped the teenager up. His head rolled back so Snape shifted him, discovering that he was surprisingly light for his height and long hours of Quidditch training. He edged around the bed and waded through the glass slowly and then quickly left the room heading straight for the infirmary. Being a Quidditch player himself in his day, the Potions professor made it in record time without becoming winded at all. He kicked open the door and stormed down the aisle of empty beds. Madam Pomfrey's voice reached his ears from one of the end beds.  
  
Now, dear, just a few more hours. You can go back at dinner. Until then you need to rest. Those tentacle plants contain sometimes fatal poison. You are very lucky to-  
  
barked a voice at the edge of the bed.  
  
She turned with hands on her hips and glared at the intruder. Severus Snape! By now you should know better than - She caught sight of the boy in her fellow teacher's arms. Oh, oh my! Put him down immediately! Quick, into a bed! I'll go fetch a few instruments and medicines.  
  
Snape whirled around and laid Draco gently into the bed across from Harry Potter, who stared in shocked horror at his nemesis's bloody and bruised body. Snape just glared at him. Madam Pomfrey returned with a few vials and various medical tools. She pulled the curtain closed and started bustling around, her equipment jangling and clanking.  
  
Oh, Merlin, he's barely breathing! You've brought him to me in the nick of time, Severus, she said.  
  
That's what I figured, Snape told her while examining Draco's many bruises and wondering how they got there.  
  
Do you know what happened? Look at this arm, cut up like that! And these fading bruises are all over his body, she observed as she lifted up his shirt and one pant leg. She began cleaning and then applying special creams to his raw cuts. These cuts are so deep. The poor dear looks like he was attacked, she murmured.  
  
I don't think he was attacked, Poppy, Severus told her morosely. I think he did it to himself.  
  
The bustling and clambering around stopped. What? You don't think he's, oh my. I would have never thought, with his father spoon feeding him everything and all.  
  
I'm not sure of anything yet. Now that he really thought about it though, Snape could see why a child would be suicidal with Lucius Malfoy as a father. He had always given Draco the most expensive and most recent material objects the boy could possibly want because he believed his son should have the best. He had to _be_ the best and nothing less. It wouldn't be acceptable for a Pureblooded wizard to be anything short of perfect. With Granger around to contend with academically and Potter's competition on the Quidditch field, it was difficult for Draco to be number one. And Severus was sure that didn't go over well with Lucius.   
  
Although, Poppy, I _am_ quite certain that those bruises and scars were not some kind of self-destruction. There is no way he could have possibly punched himself in the eye to form that bruise, or reach behind him to cut his lower back like that, Snape said while the mediwitch delicately turned the boy over for better access to his left arm.  
  
She paused to throw him a confused glance upward. But who then? Surely Albus would know if any bullying took place here at Hogwarts.  
  
Was being second best such an offense to Lucius Malfoy that he would physically take it out on his son? Snape thought about it before narrowing his eyes and speaking in a low voice.  
  
Trust me, it did not take place here at school.   
  
The implication of his words silenced the mediwitch as she continued healing Draco. Well I am sure that Mr. Malfoy is in safe hands here Poppy, so I must return to my classroom. Can't leave the Slytherins and Gryffindors in a classroom by themselves for too long. Childish rivalry.  
  
Madam Pomfrey nodded. Mm-hm. He'll be good as new in no time Severus. You will speak with the Headmaster?  
  
Snape nodded. Yes. Once Draco is in the condition to answer, we will question him. I want to speak with him before we notify his parents. Good day.  
  
He took one last look at the marred body of Draco Malfoy. The many bruises and cuts made him look frail and weak. His body gave no indication of life except for the subtle breathing that was beginning to gain some speed, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's administrations. His face was ghost white and his mouth was, for once, not twisted into a smirk. Which, Snape figured, was only a cover up anyway; an attempt to please his father. His mind reeled with the possibilities of what Draco might encounter at home. And suddenly, any respect Severus Snape held for Lucius Malfoy was lost.  
  
~~~  
  
Draco awoke several hours later to find himself in a very uncomfortable bed and his left arm very stiff. Glancing down he realized he was in a hospital bed and his arm firmly wrapped in thick bandages. He winced at the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. A groan escaped his lips as he turned over onto his right side to avoid the light. His entire body ached in the process, the need to remember the cause temporarily forgotten by Draco as he tried to reduce the amount of pain by moving slower. His shins and knees felt like they had been pierced by a thousand nails and it felt like he had gotten a million paper cuts on his hands. He shifted his bulky bandaged arm so it rested as comfortably as it could on his chest. Which wasn't very comfortable.  
  
_Seriously, why must they make bandages so bloody thick?_ he asked himself. A few other curses and nonsensical pointless questions that one asks when annoyed that the world isn't cooperating entered his mind before something clicked and his eyes popped open. Who cares about the damn bandage, _why_ was his arm bandaged? _How_ did he get to the hospital wing? Why did his body hurt so much? Shouldn't he be in Potions right now? Why was he in the hospital wing to begin with?  
  
What the bloody hell _happened_?  
  
That is what we would like to know, Mr. Malfoy, a voice said from behind him.  
  
Draco froze. The previous night's rampage came flooding back into his memory. The sequence of events that must have transpired after he passed out arranged themselves in a logical order in Draco's brain.  
  
Oh. Shit.  
  
  
  
  
  
~~~  
I am really really pleased with this chapter, even though I had to start certain parts over a couple of times. Wow, Snape's a smart cookie; he practically figured out what goes on at Malfoy Manor. He just needs confirmation of his suspicions...But will Draco prove him right, or deny it?? ::dun dun dun:: And before you ask, there will be no Snape/Draco romance, nor will there be any Harry/Draco romance...there will be NO ROMANCE in this at all. Please, please **REVIEW**! I would simply explode with excitement if I got over 100 reviews.....  
  
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS FROM LAST CHAPTER. YOU ALL ROCK! NOW JUST DO IT AGAIN :)


	8. Explanations

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** OMG you guys!! 105 reviews! You ROCK!! Thank you to everyone who reviewed :) This chapter is extremely long, I think. It was 13 hand written pages and took me about 4 hours to write. Whew! And it's chapter 8!!! My favorite number!! Hehe. Enjoy.  
  
Also, I just wanted to say that irregardless' isn't a word. I used it last chapter and then my mom informed me that it wasn't a word. And I didn't believe her, so I looked it up in the dictionary and two thesaurus's - and alas, it was not there. No wonder the spell checker highlighted it, but I just ignored it lol. Yea, whatever, just go read the chappy....  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 8: Explanations**  
  
  
  
Draco turned (painfully) back on to his left side to face his visitors.  
  
Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape!  
  
They stared at him expectantly while he fiddled with the blankets.  
  
I can - err, explain.  
  
Good. Please do, Snape told him curtly. The teacher watched as a wave of apprehension and fear passed over the boy's face before the normal blank mask took over.  
  
I was angry and I went to far, I suppose. It won't happen again.  
  
Snape snapped at the statement. You suppose?!? If I hadn't found you when I did, Mr. Malfoy, you would already be dead.  
  
I'm not suicidal, Professor, Draco told him firmly.  
  
Well that's bloody reassuring after you slice your arm up like that.  
  
Severus, calm yourself, the Headmaster intervened. Severus took a deep breath and sat down in one of the chairs near the bed. The Headmaster turned a calculating eye on Draco. What, Mr. Malfoy, could make you so angry that you felt it necessary to cut yourself?  
  
Draco froze. He couldn't tell the truth. He needed a good lie, but his mind was empty. Where were his cunning Slytherin skills when he needed them? Staring at the floor, he put on his expressionless mask again and glanced up at them. And shrugged.  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. You don't know?  
  
Draco shook his head. Okay, so being inarticulate wasn't one of his best plans. Sue him. There was no way he would let that old man know the true reason.  
  
I see. Dumbledore eyed him doubtfully for a moment before standing. Well, Mr. Malfoy, if there is anything you wish to talk about, I am sure you will be able to find me. I owled your parents earlier and they are on their way. I am going to wait for them in the front of the school. Feel better soon. Good day, Severus.  
  
The Potions Master, who had been silent and motionless since his outburst, nodded mutely. The Headmaster slipped between the curtains, leaving the teacher and his student to their thoughts.  
  
Draco softly sighed. Just what he needed - his parents seeing him in this condition. Lucius would be enraged while Narcissa would be worried. He closed his eyes, wishing he had never gotten himself involved in this mess.  
  
Meanwhile, Severus remained passive, closely observing the teen. He had been watching him throughout the length of the conversation. The boy liked to believe he was ice personified but now and then little drops of emotion melted off. Such as the hesitation when he was asked to tell what happened, or the panic when asked why it had happened, and even the alarm at the mention of his parents. These small flickers of feeling would go unnoticed by most people, but to a perceptive person like Severus, were quite obvious. In his mind he mulled over what he knew about Draco's situation and added the briefly displayed emotions, trying to link things together. He stared at the boy as if willing him to explain everything. Of course he didn't; the battered teen continued to lie there with his eyes closed.  
  
Something in the man's mind stirred as he stared at the bruises; he suddenly vividly remembered a former Potions class. Which there were a lot of, considering he _instructed_ the class. Nevertheless, he recalled the day he had taught his sixth years how to brew a Concealment Potion. It had been a difficult task for all of them. Well, most of them...  
  
That's why you knew how to brew the Concealment Potion.  
  
Draco's eyes popped open in shock.  
  
To hide all those bruises, I mean, Snape stated.  
  
The blond said nothing and looked at the ground. What was there to say? He couldn't exactly deny the statement, for he didn't have another to counter against it.  
  
Snape continued, the only question is, how did they get there?  
  
was the mumbled reply.  
  
Snape started, dropping his voice to an almost gentle tone, I find it hard to believe that Quidditch caused that amount of injuries without a single visit to Madam Pomfrey.  
  
Draco fixed him with a steely gaze. Are you calling me a liar?  
  
I was merely stating that I thought your answer to be very improbable.  
  
  
  
Snape was not a patient man.  
  
Well what?  
  
Severus rolled his eyes. Draco, don't play stupid. Tell the truth.  
  
About what?  
  
He had seen the teen play this game when he was younger. the black haired man warned. Tell me where the bruises came from. Tell me why you deliberately cut your arm. Tell me what you're hiding. Just tell me something, dammit! He glared relentlessly at the boy, who just stared smugly back. Maybe you should tell me what goes on at home.  
  
Some of Draco's confidence faltered but he still managed to raise a blond eyebrow. What are you suggesting? he asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice even so that it trembled slightly.  
  
Snape smiled inwardly at the nervousness. Maybe if he unnerved the boy enough, he would admit the truth.  
  
I'm not suggesting anything, he answered placidly.  
  
Yes, you are, Draco spoke icily, blue eyes glazing with anger. Or was it fear that someone may have discovered the truth. You're trying to imply that my -  
  
He stopped abruptly when a flurry of footsteps and murmuring resounded through the infirmary, obviously coming closer to his bed. Forgetting Snape and his accusations Draco shot a panicked look at the curtain before it opened. Once it was pulled back and two figures stepped into the small area though, a passive look replaced it.  
  
Draco sweetheart! Are you okay? We left as soon as we received Headmaster's owl.  
  
Draco sat up and managed a small smile as his mother instantly attached herself to him. I'm fine now, Mum, he said into her hair. The fragrance was familiar and comforting - fresh peaches.  
  
She pulled back, tears in her eyes, and held his hand. You had me so worried, I feared the worst. Thank goodness you're okay, I would have been beside myself! she said. Snape realized she said me' and I' instead of us' or we'. Interesting.  
  
I'm so sorry, Draco whispered. He truly felt guilty for causing his mother to feel so distraught.  
  
Oh, honey, it's okay. Whatever is wrong, I - we, she glanced at her husband, will help you through it, alright?  
  
He nodded and she gently kissed him on the forehead. He didn't seem at all embarrassed by the coddling. Narcissa looked appreciatively at her former classmate before turning back towards her son and smiling somberly.  
  
I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if Professor Snape hadn't found you in time.  
  
Lucius cleared his throat. Yes, thank you Severus, he finally spoke. The Potions teacher nodded. Lucius glanced at his son. It was good you found him before something..._tragic_ occurred.  
  
Draco slowly lifted his eyes until he met his father's irate grey ones. They gleamed with nothing but cold fury and pure unadulterated hate. Draco was glad he wasn't home; he was positive he would have been ruthlessly murdered by now.  
  
Snape noticed how the younger Malfoy visibly flinched under his father's intense gaze. He also noted the stiff formality and sadistic edge of the elder's voice. He needed no more evidence than this.  
  
I would have been deeply troubled if a fatal tragedy struck one of my star pupils, Lucius. Especially my good friend's son, Severus told Lucius, watching as a flash of disdain passed over the blond man's face as the word son' was said. He was clearly disgusted by his son's situation.  
  
However, along with the severe cuts on his arm and hands, Madam Pomfrey is worried about the fading bruises and how they got there.  
  
I told you Professor, they're from Quidditch. It's a rough game and I tend to bruise easily, Draco jumped in hurriedly.  
  
Yes, and you're terribly clumsy. You walk into objects like a bumbling drunk all the time, Lucius added.  
  
Is that so? Snape questioned, knowing for a fact that Draco was a very coordinated person.  
  
Yes, it is. Isn't it, dear? Lucius asked his wife pointedly.  
  
Narcissa gave Severus a resigned look before reluctantly nodding. Lucius smiled thinly.  
  
I see, Severus nodded, Even so, some bruises are questionable. For instance, his eye. It looks like _someone punched him_, he said in a low hostile voice while staring Lucius in the eye.  
  
Draco's heart thumped in his chest. Snape had definitely gone too far. The worst thing was, _he_ would get the brunt of his father's anger even though Snape was the one that pissed him off.   
  
Lucius's eyes widened in rage. How dare you? he snarled. What are you implying?  
  
Severus shrugged his shoulders as he stood his ground. I am not implying anything, Lucius. He looked at Draco and nodded at Narcissa before leveling his gaze with the man he once considered a friend. I am sure you and your wife would like to speak with Draco privately, Lucius, so I shall leave you to it.  
  
As soon as the curtain stopped rustling signifying Snape's exit, Lucius turned a stony glare on Draco. What the hell did you tell him?  
  
Draco's eyes widened. I didn't tell him anything. _Maybe he just figured out what a bastard you are and put two and two together._  
  
Then why does he suspect that _I_ gave you that black eye?  
  
I d-don't know.  
  
You better not be lying, Lucius warned him.  
  
I'm not! his son insisted.  
  
Lucius frowned at him skeptically. His eyes roamed to Draco's bandaged arm and hands. He raised his eyes to meet a pair of defiant sky blue ones staring back.  
  
You selfish, ungrateful little bastard, he spat.  
  
Narcissa scolded only to be silenced with a scornful sneer.  
  
After all I've done for you, and given to you, you try _this_. You go and try to _kill_ yourself. Is that how you show gratitude to your father? Haven't I taught you better?  
  
Lucius, that's enough! He's already hurt enough to attempt suicide, don't add to his problems, Narcissa pleaded.  
  
It wasn't suicide, Draco stated. I was just-  
  
Like hell it wasn't! You were planning to bleed to death. And tell me, why did you choose to rip open your _left _arm? Hmm? Lucius exploded.  
  
Lucius, please, keep your voice down!  
  
He glowered menacingly at his wife. Narcissa, shut the bloody hell up!  
  
Draco watched angrily. Don't speak to her like that! She was risking a lot to talk back to Lucius like she was and Draco was not going to let him brush her off like a piece of flint.  
  
Silence engulfed the room as Lucius stared down his son. His lip curled into a malicious sneer. I thought I told you not to tell _me_ what to do, he growled, lifting his arm to slap his son. Draco squeezed his eyes shut waiting for the blow, but it never came. Narcissa grabbed Lucius's arm with both her hands.  
  
Not here, Lucius Malfoy! she told him vehemently. Draco stared at her; she never stood up to him like that. The consequence was usually too harsh. Besides what would they think if they saw a fresh bruise moments after we leave? Severus would be even more suspicious, she said trying to reason with the angry blond man.  
  
Lucius lowered his arm while glaring begrudgingly at his wife. Unfortunately you are right, Narcissa, he admitted before leaning in close to Draco. But just wait until Christmas when you come home. I will show you no mercy, you nasty son of a bitch, he hissed viciously. He stood up and smoothed his robes.   
  
Don't try any more funny business. Or else, he threatened as he walked towards the curtain. Come Narcissa. I have to pack for my business trip tomorrow.  
  
One moment. I want to say good-bye.  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes. Fine, but I can't stand the sight of the evil shit anymore so I will wait for you in the Entrance Hall.  
  
With a swish of his cloak, Lucius Malfoy exited the little area and mother and son listened as his footsteps retreated and they heard a door shut. Narcissa looked back at her son.  
  
You shouldn't have done that. He's going to be brutal later, Draco told her.  
  
It's okay, I'm used to it, she said sitting down on the side of the bed and pulling him in for a hug. I'm so sorry Draco, she whispered.  
  
It's okay Mum. It's not your fault, he told her.  
  
She looked down at him, shaking her head. She raised his fully bandaged left arm and asked, What happened, honey?  
  
Draco lifted his head and shrugged. I was just mad, that's all. I don't want to die, honest. I was going to clean everything up but I passed out before I found my wand.  
  
Narcissa frowned in concern. You were angry enough to injure yourself? That worries me.  
  
The blond teen hung his head and mumbled something incoherent.  
  
What was that?  
  
I wanted it gone, he whispered. I wanted it off; it to just vanish. It repulsed me. It's a revolting symbol really. And now I can't see it anymore because there are too many cuts and that's the way I want it.  
  
But no matter what you do, no matter how many times you cut your arm, the Dark Mark will never cease to exist, Mr. Malfoy. It is branded into your skin. It cannot disappear.  
  
Narcissa and Draco looked up to see Severus Snape standing at the foot of the bed. Draco turned his head away in shame while Narcissa hugged him more tightly.  
  
I have to go, baby. Your father will be in even rarer form if I keep him waiting too long.  
  
was the barely audible reply.  
  
I love you, and please don't do anything like this again. You scared me to death.  
  
I won't, Draco promised.  
  
She stood and gave him a bright smile. Good-bye sweetheart. Owl me if you need me.  
  
I will. Bye Mum, be careful. Love you.  
  
Narcissa, I will escort you to the Entrance Hall. Draco, I suggest you get some rest.  
  
He obeyed and settled himself under the blankets as he watched his teacher and mother leave. Once they were gone, he rolled over and silently cried himself to sleep.  
  
  
Narcissa and Snape walked side by side towards the front hall. It reminded them of their school days when they and their group of friends roamed the castle or thought up Slytherinly evil pranks to play on the Marauders. Those were the days.  
  
He's still a terror as I heard tonight, Severus sighed.  
  
Yes, unfortunately, Narcissa said. I thought it was just a childhood temper that he would lose once we were out of school. But we've been married for over sixteen years and he hasn't changed yet. In fact, he's gotten worse.  
  
Snape stared at the floor. I didn't realize he was so cruel.  
  
Narcissa chuckled sardonically. Welcome to my world. She stopped. Oh Severus, what am I supposed to do? He's destroyed me and my life; I'm used to it by now. There's nothing I can do. But he's destroying my son! I can't stand for that; he constantly hurts him, and now has forced him to become a Death Eater. It breaks my heart to see him abuse Draco and I'm completely useless in stopping him. I feel helpless, she said in a small voice.  
  
Severus closed his eyes. We'll figure something out, I promise Narcissa. We're Slytherins after all.  
  
She smiled a bit.   
  
They continued walking. One more corner and they would be face to face with Lucius Malfoy.  
  
I think you'd better walk the rest of the way yourself, he said quietly.  
  
She nodded.  
  
Owl me if you need anything. In the meantime, I'll try to work something out, okay?  
  
Narcissa smiled sadly. Thank you.  
  
No problem. And I mean _anything_. Just owl me.  
  
I will, she said as she disappeared around the corner.  
  
Severus Snape watched her go. He remembered her from their Hogwarts days; a carefree, fun-loving girl. Her eyes used to always sparkle with a mischievous Slytherin glint. Now they emitted defeat and loneliness. He was going to do whatever he could to help her and Draco; neither deserved what they put up with. Lucius Malfoy would get what was coming to him.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~  
Heh heh. Watch your back Lucius Malfoy!! Mwa hahahaha. Ahem. Okay, I don't know why, but this chapter irks me for some reason. There were so many different ways I could have written this chapter, and it was difficult to choose. I also used a lot of words over and over because I couldn't think of any other way to write them. Ehh, oh well. Now it's your turn. Work your reviewer magic! Go!! Go!! Please?   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Confused Thoughts

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** TONIGHT!! AHHHH!! Harry Potter party and then OOTP!! I am soooooo excited. There won't be any updates of this story until AFTER I finish OotPwhich will be 4 or 5 days, relax (lol, DracosGurl). Then there will be a chapter a week until the story is finished, I'm guessing July sometime. Alritey, enjoy whatever celebration you're having for OotP and the book itselfbut don't forget to read and review this first!! LoLand thanks for all your reviews for last chapter!!  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 9: Confused Thoughts**  
  
  
  
Three days later, Draco was released from the Hospital Wing. Thanks to Madam Pomfrey's ministrations and the Concealing Potion, he appeared perfectly normal except for the sling that suspended his left arm. The school had been informed of his dreadful fall by Professor Dumbledore, a story Draco was only too happy to comply with. He didn't need the entire school speculating about his personal problems.  
  
Which made him think: _did_ he have problems? Sure, he had a bastard for a father, an unwanted tattoo, and was now a servant to another, but did those misfortunes warrant enough despair to kill himself? _Had_ he tried to kill himself? These and other confused thoughts swirled around in his head as he lay in his bed each night. Every so often he peered through the bed curtains, scenes from that night flashing vividly before his eyes. He remembered the shattered glass, the ink stained wall, the ripped pieces of parchment. Why had he done it? What had made him do it?  
  
After about three weeks of sleepless, wondering nights, Draco growled and threw off his bed covers. Slipping on a pair of shoes and snatching his wand, he left his room and went downstairs into the empty Slytherin common room. He sat in front of the practically dead fire for a while before springing back onto his feet. He felt too antsy to just sit, so he quietly snuck out of the common room to roam the dungeons. As he softly walked through the cold corridors, his thoughts plagued him again. Was he suicidal? He told his parents and professors he wasn't; but how did he know that? Perhaps he was too messed up in the head to correctly judge. He had always considered himself mentally stable and not capable of suicidal intentions. Now he just didn't know.  
  
Whilst pondering his mental stability, Draco lost himself in the memory of that night. The thing that stood out the most was his feeling of despair. But it wasn't a depressed feeling of despair; it stemmed from anger and a pain deep within. It had felt as if he was trying desperately to grasp something that didn't exist. But what?  
  
He slowly strolled along corridors, realizing he wasn't even in the dungeons anymore. In fact, he had no idea _where_ he was. Judging from the large amount of moonlight filtering in through the windows, he assumed he was in the upper part of the castle. Most likely Hufflepuff or Gryffindor territory. Shrugging, he proceeded his aimless wandering.  
  
He didn't exactly recall destroying his room. After punching the mirror and watching his image shatter into a million pieces, he shattered into a million pieces. He had lapsed into a strange frustrated euphoria and everything he had done was distorted to reflect his inner turmoil. He had not been pounding shards of glass; he had been beating the shit out of his father like he oftentimes had been. He hadn't ripped parchment; he was ripping his father's heart so it would be torn to pieces like his felt. He hadn't thrown his school belongings across the room; they were aimed at his father. The sight of the Dark Mark dragged him into a deeper rage. It embodied his father's force and influence over him. Tearing at the skin and watching the blood pour out was an adrenaline rush to Draco. Unfortunately, it only provided a temporary high and he had eventually slipped back into his normal frame of mind.  
  
Looking around, Draco hadn't been able to believe what he had done. His room was a pure disaster. He had lost it. He had finally broke.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, back in the dungeons, another individual was also enduring yet another sleepless night over Draco Malfoy's problems. Severus Snape sat situated in front of a blazing fire in his living quarters lazily sipping a butterbeer. He absentmindedly stared at the crackling embers while once again brainstorming ideas to help Narcissa and Draco. He had already discarded reporting abuse to the ministry; Lucius Malfoy had too much power and money to threaten or bribe officials. It would be a futile attempt and result in horrible consequences for Narcissa and Draco. Using the Fidelius Charm was an interesting concept, but uncovering the identity of the Secret Keeper would be extremely easy. He, Severus, and Dumbledore were too obvious of choices; other than them, who else would agree? Neither Draco nor Narcissa had any other friends that would defy Lucius that way. There were other options Severus had mulled over, but he had objections to each one.  
  
There was one plan, however, that might just work. It would be dangerous – very dangerous – for Draco. Severus wasn't sure if he wanted to put the 16-year-old at such a high risk. Even if he did, he didn't think Dumbledore or Narcissa would agree. Unless, of course, the teen insisted that he was willing to participate. And that was highly possible. Listening to his conversation with Narcissa, Severus was positive Draco had never intended to become a Death Eater; the decision had been out of his hands. And although he was scared of his father, it was obvious he hated him. How could he not, after all Lucius did to him and Narcissa? That might just be the motivation needed.  
  
Severus decided to speak to Draco in private before approaching Dumbledore. He hoped to Merlin that he was correct in his assumptions and reading of Draco's emotions. Or he could be duck soup at the next Death Eater meeting.  
  
  
_Why did I break?_ Draco wondered to himself while still meandering through the castle. If Filch caught him, he would be in big trouble. But he was too busy to care at the moment. He didn't understand why now, after sixteen years of abuse and pain, he had fallen apart. Had the Dark Mark been the last straw and he just crumbled? Had his pent up anger finally reached its maximum and he just burst? As his footsteps echoed in the hallways, he searched blindly for answers.  
  
Loud whispering brought his attention back to his surroundings. Paintings he had never seen pointed at him and whispered to each other as he brushed past. He glared at a few, but concentrated on attempting to figure out where he was. He pulled out his wand and muttered, In the dim light, he could see that his shoes left footprints in a large layer of dust on the floor, indicating the corridor wasn't used daily by students.  
  
_The Third Floor Corridor._  
  
When the realization hit, Draco felt a surge of excitement course through his veins. So _this_ was the forbidden third floor corridor the students were told not to venture down. A shiver of anticipation tingled down his spine at the thought of being where he shouldn't. All he saw were paintings and dust, so he didn't understand how anyone could die a slow and painful death. Unless they were allergic to dust. Up ahead he saw a doorway, through which the moving staircases were visible. _That was it?_ he snorted. The scary corridor that no one was allowed to enter wasn't scary at all. Before the doorway, however, there were two doors on either side of Draco. Letting curiosity get the better of him, he approached one.  
  
he whispered. Nothing happened. He tried the next door. And the next. At the last one, the lock clicked and he cautiously pushed open the door. He slowly walked into the room to find that it contained a sole object.  
  
A mirror? he asked out loud in disbelief. _That's_ why we can't go down this corridor? What a joke.  
  
He stepped up to it and saw a strange incantation carved around the top. It didn't look like any language he knew. His eyes dropped down to the glass where he expected to see his bruised skin since the Concealment Potion wore off hours ago, but instead he sawhis father?  
  
Draco's eyes widened and he whipped around to find no one behind him. Turning back toward the mirror, he saw his father smile and yell something. A younger Draco came running into view carrying a broomstick.  
  
Draco watched, fascinated, as Lucius showed the younger Draco how to ride the broom. After Draco managed to fly a few feet and fall, Lucius came running up to him, grinning and clapping as he pulled little Draco in for a hug. The scene changed to a little bit older Draco and his father playing chess. Draco was bouncing up and down in his seat, clearly winning. From Lucius's smile, it was evident he was letting Draco win.  
  
_What **is** this?_ Draco wondered. Maybe it shows how life could have been? He watched more scenes fly by - Lucius celebrating his Hogwarts letter, Lucius cheering at his first Quidditch match even though Draco lost, Lucius helping him with schoolwork, and finally, the present Draco standing there in his pajamas with his smiling father behind him. He seemed to be beaming with pride and had his hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco touched his shoulder to feel nothing there. (A/N: I know, I ripped it off of Harry's first encounter with the mirror; SUE ME!!)  
  
Draco viewed each scene twice more. They were hazy and dreamlike, and there wasn't any sound. But, in each and every one, Lucius was smiling and actually displayed affection for his son.  
  
And so began the Mirror of Erised's hypnotic power over Draco. He left the room that night and for the first time in his entire life, felt perfectly content. His current life hadn't mattered as he stared into that mirror; all that had was that other life and seeing the love in his father's face. He didn't know how the mirror showed what it did, but it certainly wasn't the last time he would glance into it.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Hehe. Interesting, eh? Please **REVIEW**!!!


	10. A Solution

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** I know nobody wants to hear my sob story about not updating, let's just leave it at the fact that I've been lazy lately. Sorry. But, I'll have you know, this is a hell of a lot longer than last chapter, which should make you all happy. Thank you _sooo_ much for the reviews, I'm glad people made time to read my story in the midst of OotP. Hehe, enjoy and **PLEASE REVIEW**!!  
  
**  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 10: A Solution**  
  
  
Over the course of the next week Severus Snape rarely had time to seek Draco out for a private chat. He was engaged in grading third year four foot long essays on the properties of wormwood and attending secret meetings of the Order of the Phoenix. Even though the Ministry was finally aware of Voldemort's return, the Order continued to meet in order to discuss additional safety precautions and tactics. Just what Severus needed; spending his evenings with a bunch of Gryffindors. Moody and Tonks were the only Aurors who seemed able to make time to come. And to make matters worse, Dumbledore allowed Severus's favorite trio to attend certain meetings. _Bloody Potter and his stupid scar_, he thought bitterly while grading a particularly terrible Hufflepuff's essay. Sighing, he marked it with a big red F and picked up another.  
  
Halfway through the second week of November, Severus finally finished the ruddy essays while one of his sixth year classes was brewing Memory Potions. The effects were similar to those of a Memory Charm except he gave them the recipe for a temporary potion. That's all Hogwarts would need - Lockhart situations popping up all over the school.   
  
After putting the parchments away in one of his desk drawers he stood to stroll around the room and observe the potions. It was an easy process: insult the Gryffindors' and praise and encourage the Slytherins. It wasn't that the Slytherins were particularly excellent potion makers - they weren't, except for Draco and occasionally Blaise. And it wasn't that the Gryffindors were all terrible potion makers - they weren't, except for Longbottom. It was just that he favored his house over the Gryffindors, who, of course, thought he was unfair. Tough. The Slytherins were prejudiced against in every other class and Snape was only providing them with one where they weren't.  
  
Finnigan, Thomas, that potion is too blue for my liking. It should be more green. You have added an incorrect amount of jobberknoll feathers.  
  
The two boys glared at the greasy haired man's back as he leaned over Lavender and Parvati's potion and told them their potion was too yellow. He scrutinized Hermione and Neville's, trying desperately to find faults. In the end, he walked towards Ron and Harry's cauldron.  
  
Ten points, Granger, for no evidence that Longbottom had any hand in the brewing of the potion.  
  
Draco smirked as Granger sputtered indignantly and Longbottom attempted to calm her down. Snape meanwhile was criticizing Weasley and Potter's potion.  
  
...two many beetle eyes...your porcupine quills were obviously too long...this color quite disgusts me, doesn't resemble green in any way...  
  
Draco almost laughed out loud at the expressions on the stupid Gryffindor's faces. Weasel was about to pop a vein and Potter kept shooting dirty glares at Snape. Very foolish considering their grades rested in Snape's hands. But they were righteous Gryffindors; what else would one expect?  
  
Shaking his head, he continued brewing his potion. He thought temporary memory potions were not one of Professor Snape's finer assignments. What was the point in forgetting everything for only a few minutes? He wanted to be able to forget his _entire life_ **forever**. Perhaps then he would be happy. He had to admit though, his nightly visits to that mirror made him feel happy to the point of delirium. After the first night, he had trekked back to the mirror to watch the scenes of his father and himself. He hadn't been able to get enough of them. Once he had burned the images into his brain, he kept returning for the giddy content he felt when watching. He wanted nothing more than to escape and live in that mirror world where life was perfect. His nightly visits had steadily increased in length and he now spent around four hours sitting on the cold stone floor staring into the glass each night. When he somehow managed to tear himself away from the hypnosis of the mirror he seemingly floated back down to his dormitory and fell asleep, the images from the mirror dancing through his dreams. And that wasn't all. Because of the extent of exposure to this newfound addiction, Draco often lost himself in the images during the day.  
  
Like right now. He felt the excitement of playing the chess game...the delight that his father took time to play with him...  
  
Mr. Malfoy.  
  
The thrill of knowing he was about to win...the luck that his father loved him enough to _let_ him win...  
  
Mr. Malfoy.  
  
The fact that his father _did_ love him, and how it showed in his eyes, in his smile, in his actions...  
  
  
  
The blond snapped back to reality to find the entire glass staring at him and Professor Snape standing in front of his and Blaise's cauldron.  
  
Uh, yes sir?  
  
The Potions Master peered at him. Your daisy roots are too thick. Slice them thinner and your potion will be perfect. Good job with those newts eyes Mr. Zabini, he added, nodding at the finely chopped eyes on Blaise's desk.  
  
I want a vial of each group's potion on my desk in twenty minutes, he announced to the class before beginning to grade their recently handed in essays on Memory Potions and their uses in the wizarding world.  
  
Silence pervaded the room as both students and teacher did their work. Draco hastily sliced the daisy roots so he and Blaise would finished on time. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes observed him, trying to figure out what had just happened; piecing together what little information was known. Frowning thoughtfully, the owner resumed his work.  
  
Snape marked Gregory Goyle's essay with a C+ and reached for the next one. Draco Malfoy was sprawled neatly across the top. He lifted his head to look at the blond. What exactly had that little episode before been about? It was as if the boy had become deaf. He had been gazing unseeingly at the daisy roots he was slicing, the movements becoming sloppier as he fell deeper into his daze. If Draco hadn't finally realized that he was being spoken to, Severus feared he might have chopped off a finger. It was necessary to speak to him before the boy was drowning in his own bitterness and misery. Before Draco ended up like him.  
  
Mr. Malfoy?  
  
Draco glanced up from stirring. Yes Professor?  
  
What class do you have next period?  
  
Transfiguration, sir.  
  
Snape smirked. Perfect. Send a message with a classmate that you will be late. I need to speak with you about your grade.  
  
Draco nodded slowly, somewhat puzzled. Yes, sir.  
  
  
When the bell rang the students hurriedly filed out of the room, glad to be done with Potions. Draco told Pansy to pass his message on to McGonagall (for she was more reliable than either Crabbe or Goyle) and then lingered in the Potions lab while Snape gathered the essays together. Once he had all the essays, he stepped down from his desk and walked toward his office, which was a small room located in the back of that classroom.  
  
Come, Mr. Malfoy, and close the door behind you.  
  
Draco followed, slightly confused. His potions grade was always high. What could possibly be wrong? He hoped it wasn't too terrible; his father would be livid if his Potions grade wasn't up to par. Snape locked the essays in the wooden desk that stood in the center of the room.  
  
Please, sit down Draco.  
  
Draco sat down in one of the two chairs that were placed in front of the desk. His professor lit a fire in the fireplace with a flick of his wand. Draco was even more bewildered; his teacher asked to speak about his grade, and acted like they were sitting down for a chat between long lost friends. Never the patient one, Draco jumped right to the point.  
  
Professor Snape, about my grade sir, I wasn't aware that I wasn't doing well. Was it my Memory Potion essay? I'll admit, it wasn't my best work, but -  
  
Your grade is fine, Snape told him as he settled himself behind his desk.  
  
Oh. What is it then? His eyes narrowed and he scowled. McGonagall hasn't been feeding you stories that I've been bothering her precious three musketeers again, has she?  
  
It's _Professor_ McGonagall to you, and no, she hasn't lately, Snape smirked.  
  
Well, what is it then? he asked.  
  
Snape crossed his arms and rested them on the desk. Draco, did you want to become a Death Eater?  
  
Draco blinked, he had definitely not been expecting that. Snape, according to his father, was one of Voldemort's highly trusted and useful followers since he was at school with Potter and Dumbledore. _Just bloody great_, he thought_, a check on my loyalty while I'm at school_. Clearing his throat, he answered.  
  
Of course.  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow.   
  
Draco nodded lazily.   
  
Because I seem to recall hearing you say to your mother that the Dark Mark repulsed you and you cut your arm so you couldn't see it.  
  
Panic, along with anger, began to creep into Draco's bones. Yes, well, I was speaking to _my mother_. You should not have been listening to our conversation, he said defensively. He had forgotten Snape had heard that. Would he have snitched to the Dark Lord?  
  
Snape leaned back into his chair, smirking in satisfaction at riling up the boy's emotions. He was so much easier to read that way. True, but I _did_. Care to tell the truth?  
  
He stared at the boy to put pressure on him, awaiting an answer. He didn't understand why Draco was being so stubborn. He watched the teen nervously dart his eyes back and forth between his left arm and his face. Of course!  
  
Snape couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle, which greatly alarmed Draco. Draco, the Dark Lord is not ordering me to ask you this. I do not plan on spilling your true feelings at the next Death Eater meeting.  
  
Draco visibly relaxed. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Um, why? They would love to get their hands on that juicy information and then kill me after torturing me mercilessly.  
  
Because I'm a spy. Snape paused. For the Light.  
  
Draco's blue eyes bulged out of his head as he began to stutter. _W-what_?!? How? He - he doesn't know?  
  
If the Dark Lord knew, I wouldn't be here. I decided I had made a mistake and instead of regretting it, I turned it around into something positive.  
  
Whoa, either he is really dense, or you are really good, Draco said, amazed. But sir, he looked up curiously at Severus, what does this have to do with me?  
  
Severus took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.  
  
Well, it's obvious you weren't initiated by choice. It's obvious you despise your father. It's obvious you are desperate for a way out of what you think is a doomed life. Correct?  
  
Draco nodded and averted his gaze toward the fire.  
  
And it's bloody damn obvious there aren't enough spies for the Light.  
  
Draco's head shot up, his eyes wide with shock. Are - are you asking me to be a - spy? he asked incredulously.  
  
Severus nodded solemnly. Your mother will not like it, and I don't even know if Professor Dumbledore will approve. But if you are willing enough, we may be able to convince them. He watched as the boy mulled over the idea. Well, I do not need an immediate answer, as I expect you will want time to -  
  
I'll do it.  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow. Are you positive Draco? It is quite dangerous. There is a very high risk of getting caught. One slip will do you in. You understand, don't you?  
  
The blond nodded his head impatiently. Yes. But I don't care.  
  
The black haired man across from him sighed. Very well, he said while writing the teen a pass for McGonagall. Meet me in Professor Dumbledore's office tonight at 8:00. If anyone asks where you are going, tell them I'm asking his permission to give you private Advanced Potions lessons.  
  
Draco nodded as he took the slip of paper. Thank you sir. For this opportunity.  
  
  
  
Eight o'clock couldn't come quick enough for Draco. When it finally rolled around he was comfortably seated in one of the plush chairs in the headmaster's office eagerly awaiting the arrival of his mother's head in the fireplace. He knew the conversation wouldn't be spied on at Malfoy Manor because his father was off on a business trip' in Germany, so his mother was safe. The portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses whispered to one another. Draco heard a few comments about the terrible Malfoys certain ones had had to deal with in their days but just ignored them. Professor Snape paced back and forth in front of the fire and Professor Dumbledore watched both from behind his half moon spectacles, blue eyes twinkling in anticipation about the announcement the two wanted to make. (Being Dumbledore, he probably already had a very good idea of what it was) Finally after five more minutes, and Draco's third refusal of a lemon drop, Narcissa Malfoy's head popped through the flames.  
  
Severus, Headmaster! she called out, not seeing her son as he was obscured by Snape's looming figure. How may I help you? she asked and then thinking of her son, panicked and added, Is something wrong? Is it Draco?  
  
Dumbledore chuckled. Good evening, Narcissa. No, do not worry; everything is fine. Severus and Draco here want to tell us something.  
  
  
  
Snape moved and Narcissa smiled at the sight of her son.  
  
Hi Mum.  
  
Hello, sweetheart. Now what's this you want to tell us? she asked looking between Severus and Draco.  
  
Severus said, clearing his throat. Well, Narcissa, I promised I would help you and your son, and I think I have found a solution. Granted, you are not going to like it and, I am not sure you will approve either, sir - he said turning to Dumbledore, - but I have explained to -  
  
I want to be a spy, Draco interjected. Snape frowned at the interruption.  
  
Narcissa's eyes widened in horror and Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, neither surprised nor objectionable.  
  
Severus, no! It's one thing for you, a 37 year-old adult, to partake in such activities, but he is a 16 year-old boy for Merlin's sake! I do not appreciate you putting such ideas in my son's head. I -  
  
I did not put the idea in his head, I merely suggested it as an option.  
  
As _an_ option. Meaning there must be another way, she said furiously.  
  
Severus sighed and leaned against the mantle above the fireplace. I have thought of many others, but there are sizable objections to each one, Narcissa. Honestly, I've thought through them all, he said softly.  
  
Her face softened as she realized how much extra effort he was making to help. I know you have, Severus, and for that I am grateful. But, I can only imagine what you must go through; it's so dangerous and risky and... she trailed off wearily, shaking her head.  
  
If I may say something, Dumbledore interrupted the conversation gently as he glanced at Draco's somber form. Narcissa and Severus looked up at him; Draco stared at the floor.  
  
Draco is one of the brightest wizards in his year and I'm certain that he understands what is at stake, he said. Draco lifted his head and nodded gravely at the wizard.  
  
And I am quite positive he is able to make his _own_ decisions, Dumbledore continued, staring Draco in the eye. Draco stared back, trying hard not to gasp. The man had hit the jackpot. Draco nodded vigorously. He _was_ able to make his own decisions even if his bastard of a father didn't let him.  
  
Whatever he chooses to do, I will support his decision one hundred percent and help in whatever way I can. I hope you two will trust his judgment and do the same.  
  
It's not that I don't trust him, Headmaster, I just want what's best for him, Narcissa stated.  
  
Before Dumbledore could reply, Draco rose out of his seat and kneeled in front of the fire.  
  
It _is_ what's best for me, Mom, he insisted. It's the only way I might have a future, he said quietly, looking down at his hands while Narcissa closed her eyes and put her forehead in her hand.  
  
Narcissa, I would not have suggested it if I did not think him capable or intelligent enough to withstand the dangers, Severus told her.  
  
I know, she whispered. And I believe you would do perfectly fine, Draco. He looked up at her hopefully. It's just, I worry about you enough as it is, and with added dangers, I would worry myself sick. I would be beside myself if anything happened to you, honey. And, and, she looked up at him as a tear slid down her cheek, you must promise me, Draco Lawrence Malfoy, you will be extremely careful and mindful of what you say and hear.  
  
Draco nodded. I promise Mum.  
  
she continued shakily, if you somehow let something slip, or suspect that someone besides us knows, you must get yourself as far away from the Manor as possible. No crap about not wanting to leave me, or that you'll be fine - you WILL leave and go somewhere safe, you hear me?  
  
Yes Mum, Draco told her.  
  
He will come here should anything that puts him in danger occur, Dumbledore said simply.   
  
Narcissa nodded. Thank you, sir. I guess I should be going then, she said sniffling. Draco, heed my words, alright?  
  
Yes Mum, I promise I will.  
  
And Severus, do watch over him for me? And inform him of everything he needs to know?  
  
Severus smiled grimly. Of course, Narcissa. You didn't even have to ask.  
  
Thank you. Good night Headmaster, Severus. I love you Draco.  
  
Love you too, Mum.  
  
Good night, Narcissa, and please, try not to worry too much, Dumbledore told her, smiling sadly. He is in good hands.  
  
I know, she said softly before disappearing from the fireplace.  
  
Draco watched as the flames died down to nothing and then stood up. Dumbledore gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
You have made the correct decision Draco, and we are extremely proud of you. Difficult times lie ahead, but always know that myself and my colleagues will protect you in every way possible. You are doing a truly good deed.  
  
Draco looked up at him and Professor Snape, astonished that someone - _two_ someones - other than his mother were proud of him. He slowly smiled and said Thank you, sir.  
  
Dumbledore returned the smile. My pleasure, Draco. Please sit down, I need to explain something to you, he said, gaining an air of seriousness. He and Draco took seats at his desk and Professor Snape remained standing.  
  
Unbeknownst to the Ministry, myself and a group of loyal trustworthy friends reformed what is known as the Order of the Phoenix. I say reformed because it was originally formed during the existence of Voldemort's last reign of terror. It is a defensive organization; an anti-Voldemort league you could say, he stated whilst readjusting his glasses as Draco listened intently. Although the Ministry has set up its own precautions, we still continue this group as an added measure. We have certain information that we do not want the Ministry to have should it land in the wrong hands, and we use this information to our advantage. Many of our original members have since left us and though they were invaluable to us, both as people and members, we have an excellent group on our hands, including Professor Snape here.   
  
Draco looked up at Snape who just nodded in confirmation.  
  
Now, you are not old enough to join the Order yourself, but I would like you to meet its members. I allow Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger to attend certain meetings during which little Order business is discussed and more defensive tactics are. You will also be allowed at these meetings, and possibly certain others. The Order will be the only ones who know of your secret service to the Light. We have a scheduled meeting for tomorrow evening and I can introduce you to everyone then.  
  
Draco grimaced at having to work with Potter, Weasley, and Granger, but noted with satisfaction that _he_ might get to attend more meetings than they.  
  
Draco, meet in my office at 9:00 tomorrow, and I will escort you to the meeting from there, Snape told him. Draco nodded again.  
  
Perfect. Any questions, Draco? Dumbledore asked genially.  
  
No, none that I can think of at the moment, Draco said.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. Alright then. You better get to bed, it's quite late. Severus, I'd like a word with you.  
  
Draco stood. Okay. Thank you. I won't let you down. I want to help in whatever way I can. He felt a surge of rebellion wash through him. He wanted to do whatever would piss his father off the most; whatever would bring about his downfall.   
  
I know, Draco, Dumbledore said and as Draco neared the door called, Mr. Malfoy? Draco turned. I'm sure this should go unsaid, but all that you have been told tonight is to be kept a secret.  
  
Draco nodded. Of course. Good night, Professors.  
  
As he exited the spiral staircase, all the new information he had gained swam through his head. So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't realize where his feet carried him until he was in front of the familiar door in the Third Floor Corridor. Blinking, he unlocked the door and entered inside. He took up his position in front of the mirror and all thoughts were pushed out of his head as the images and longing for that other life flowed through his body. The images and scenes flew by so many times that he again fell into a daze, except it was much deeper than anything he had ever experienced. Every fiber of his being ached for that life, for the family perfection he saw in the mirror. He was so enraptured in his daze, his thoughts, and his feelings that he once more felt like he was floating because of pure delirium.  
  
Except he wasn't. Floating by pure delirium that is. Draco _was_, however, actually floating. _What the hell? _He blinked as he realized he was down in the dungeons. He looked around wildly as his body slowly descended and his feet touched the ground. In his frantic search, he swore he saw a slight shimmer to his right but chalked it up to his imagination and lack of sleep. When he finally gave up on figuring out how he arrived there, he resolved to just head on up to bed and forget about it for now, even though it really creeped him out. As he walked toward the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, he felt a cool breeze brush past him. He froze, cautiously peering around the corridor, before shaking his head. Was he kidding himself? There were _always_ drafts down here - these were the dungeons for Pete's sake! He decided he better get to bed quickly before his overactive imagination flared up again.  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
  
******Coming either July 11th or 12th: Draco meets the Order...finds out what exactly that mirror does...and a scene from first year replays itself, except with different results...******  
  
Got your curiosity, don't it?? That was the point :) Okay, well, a couple of chapters ago, I know there were a few people who wanted me to email them when I updated, but I forgot who you were, lol. So if you could just tell me again in a review, that would be great. If anyone else wants me to email about updates, just leave your email address, and I'll email you once Chapter 11 is up. Okie dokes?!?   
  



	11. The Meeting and The Mirror

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. And the idea of tap doors that pop up in this chapter...don't think they have them in the HP world yet...  
  
**A/N:** Like I said, this chapter would be out by July 11th/12th, so here it is!! A few things before it starts: I don't remember if McGonagall or Hagrid are in the OotP, but if they aren't, they are now :) I know there are a couple of people in the Order that I don't mention at the meeting, but I didn't feel like looking them up in the book to find out their names or their positions, sorry, lol. ****NOTE**** If you haven't read OotP, I wouldn't suggest reading this chapter. I don't outright say who died, but the fact that he/she isn't at the meeting is a dead giveaway....There are also a few other little things, like Tonks and what Bill's doing home, but they're not major book spoilers or anything.  
  
Okay, about the name Lawrence. I know a few of you had objections, lol. But I didn't just randomly pick that off the top of my head. I actually had a reason. ::puts on Hermione voice:: The name Lawrence, derived from English origins, means Crowned with Laurel'. In ancient times, a wreath of laurel was often placed upon the heads of poets, heroes, and athletes, the laurel tree being symbolic of honor and victory. See, I did my homework! Although the name might not sound so hot, the meaning is perfect (for the rest of the story hehe).  
  
**Kat:** I actually thought about why I included Narcissa in knowing about Draco's spy job _after_ I updated. For the story, it was a dumb move. But I guess it boils down to the fact that everything I do in my life, parents/guardians have to consent to, and I incorporated that into the story. Like I said, not good for the plot. But luckily, I write the story, so Lucius won't find out, I promise, lol. Also, Narcissa wasn't exactly gone, she just put her head in the fireplace to talk to Dumbledore, Snape, and Draco. (Don't really know what that's called exactly) And Lucius wouldn't have been suspicious cause he was on a business trip' to Germany. Hope that patched up your confusions :)  
  
And once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the reviews. They keep me going, seriously.  
  
Alritey, on with the chapter......  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 11: The Meeting and The Mirror** (I know, lame title...but it just sounds cool...ya know, the two M's?)  
  
  
  
The next day was nothing short of boring. It droned on mercilessly and Draco was never more relieved to step into the shower at 8:00 that evening. After classes had ended for the day, he locked himself in his room until dinner doing homework, then spent a grueling hour and a half training his Quidditch team in drizzly rain (yes, _his_ team - he was now Slytherin's captain), and then did another hour of homework before finally taking a shower. No wonder he was exhausted. But he didn't know how long this Order meeting thing would las and he didn't want to chance leaving his homework for the last minute.  
  
Upon stepping out of the soothing hot water of the shower, Draco wrapped a towel around his waist (A/N: Authoress would love to expand on this image, but cannot, seeing as this is a family friendly site...) and strode down the hall toward his room. He absentmindedly dressed himself in a pair of tan slacks and a forest green shirt under his Slytherin robes while thinking of the meeting. All day, he had been waiting for the meeting in anticipation and curiosity. Now he felt somewhat nervous. Imagine him, Draco Malfoy, intimidated by a bunch of Gryffindors. As ironic as it was, he felt it all the same. They were going to be the only people he could trust now that he made his decision, and if they didn't accept him, life would be even more of a living hell. He had to stay alert around other Slytherins and his father, but still act like he always had in school so as not to arouse suspicion.  
  
Using a spell, Draco dried his hair but left it ungelled. Another charm made sure that the effects of his Concealment Potion would last another three hours. Once ready, he pocketed his wand and set off for Professor Snape's office.  
  
The Potions Master was seated at his desk waiting patiently for Draco.  
  
I assume you had no trouble exiting the Common Room?  
  
Draco shook his head. Nope. Told them I was going to my first Advanced Potions lesson.  
  
Snape nodded. Good. We will leave the classroom closed in case anyone decides to spy. With a flick of his wand, the heavy door closed. Now, come. Everyone is already there, and Professor Dumbledore explained to them your decision and what you will be doing. Not that it's really anyone's business, they should be thankful for another spy, but I thought it best to forewarn the group since some of them may, he rolled his eyes,  
  
Draco smirked. Gee, who in the world could he be speaking about? He remembered the expressions on a certain two Gryffindors' faces the day before in Potions while their potion was ridiculed. They would probably be ten times worse tonight. _Perfect. Quality entertainment._  
  
He watched as Snape locked the office door. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Professor, how exactly are we getting to wherever we're going? The Floo system doesn't work within the walls of...  
  
He trailed off as Snape strode over to the far wall and rapped his wand upon it in a rapid succession. Draco's eyes widened as a door appeared.  
  
Of course! Tap doors.  
  
Snape told him, opening the door,We would not want random people stumbling upon our room.  
  
And what a room. It was large and rectangular, with two doors leading to smaller rooms off at the corner. Grand tapestries and paintings lined the long windowless walls, making the room seem brighter than it was. Torches projected from the wall at certain intervals and floating candles further lit the room. A large oval table sat primly in the middle of the room, the occupants staring at him.  
  
he said, trying not to smirk at the color coming to Weasley's cheeks. Well the Weasley in his year, at least. There were a couple of other red heads, but he didn't think the entire family was there. There didn't seem to be enough.  
  
Good evening Draco. I happen to like the paintings and tapestries myself, Dumbledore commented as the teen surveyed the room again. They make the room a bit cheerier, don't you think?  
  
Draco shrugged. I suppose.  
  
Dumbledore smiled and, turning to the table, stood. This is Draco Malfoy, and as I told you earlier, he will be assisting Severus in gaining information on Voldemort. He turned back to Draco. Allow me to introduce you to the Order of the Phoenix. And its honorary members, his eyes twinkled as he glanced upon the Gryffindor Golden Trio.  
  
At my right, as you know from your third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class, is Remus Lupin.  
  
Lupin looked more weary than Draco remembered. His sandy hair was streaked with grey and his robes were shabbier than ever, but he managed a warm smile for Draco.  
  
Next to him is Alastor Moody, one of our two Aurors present. There are more, but now that the Ministry is aware of Voldemort's return, are working overtime and cannot attend most of our meetings.  
  
Well, well, never thought I'd see the day a Malfoy joined our side. Better not be any trouble, boy, or else. The magical blue eye bore into Draco, who slightly raised an eyebrow. What was he going to do? He remembered being turned into a ferret two years ago by Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Moody, but Moody didn't need to know that - didn't want to give him any ideas.  
  
Next to Moody are Arthur and Molly Weasley.  
  
Draco remembered seeing them in Diagon Alley a few times. They both nodded their heads. Draco could tell they were not happy to see him, but what did he expect after he and his father had insulted them and their family multiple times? A welcome sign and a plate of cookies?  
  
Their oldest son, Bill, is next. He works at Gringotts and is keeping a tab on the Goblins.  
  
Draco decided that Bill was the epitome of cool - appearance wise. Sure, he had the traditional Weasley red hair, but it was long and pulled back into a ponytail. In one ear he had a large fang earring and a leather vest could be seen under his robes. Bill grinned and said, Nice to meet you.  
  
He didn't make a crude remark, but spoke to him decently as if their families really didn't hate each other's guts. Yes, definitely the coolest Weasely. Actually, the _only_ cool one.  
  
There was an empty chair next to Bill and Dumbledore continued. Charlie Weasley is also part of the Order, but he works in Romania and is trying to gain support from magic folk out there. Good international relations is always a plus.  
  
A young woman with bubble-gum pink hair sat on the other side of the empty chair. Nymphadora Tonks is our other resident Auror. The woman grimaced at the mention of her name and Dumbledore chuckled. Except she highly dislikes her first name and prefers to be called Tonks only.  
  
Professor, who in their right mind would like the name Nymphadora? Ugh.  
  
Lupin chuckled. Obviously your mother.  
  
Tonks put her head in her hands. Like I said, who in their _right_ mind would like the name Nymphadora, she mumbled.  
  
While Tonks was grumbling, Draco was racking his brain. Tonks. Where had he heard that name before? It sounded so familiar. He gave up as Dumbledore continued.  
  
Of course you know Hermione, Harry, and Ron. I hope you four will be able to put aside your past differences in order to work together. _All_ of you, he said, sending a stern glance in Ron's direction. Ron was known to be the most rash out of the three.  
  
Weasley nodded, but still sent a nasty glare at the Slytherin. Granger had on a disdainful expression, and Potter just eyed Draco curiously. Both nodded reluctantly.  
  
Draco swept his eyes over the three of them. I hope so too, sir. Granger and Potter joined in Weasley's glaring. Draco took a deep breath. _Merlin help him_.  
  
Next to Ron are his older brothers Fred and George. You may know them; if not, you certainly know _of_ them, Dumbledore said amiably, while the twins' mouths twisted into identical Cheshire cat grins. Draco heard their mother mutter something about ridiculous pranks.  
  
They are not official members yet, though they are more than just honorary, Dumbledore explained.  
  
You already know Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape from your studies.  
  
Draco gave each a respective nod, even though he couldn't tolerate Hagrid or McGonagall. Snape had taken a seat beside McGonagall and Dumbledore motioned to the seat between Bill Weasley and Tonks.  
  
Why don't you have a seat, Draco, and we will begin.  
  
Draco strode around the table and sat down. Tonks gave him a bright smile to which he semi-returned.  
  
Now that we are all here, I have a new topic to discuss, concerning our younger members, Dumbledore announced. As you already are aware, the threat of Voldemort is increasing. He is gaining more power and followers daily, no doubt trying to build up an army to unleash terror on both the magical and muggle worlds. Now we cannot immediately stop him; it is going to be a long and difficult struggle, he said looking at each of the older members at the table. Which I am sure we are all willing to fight in. But we must be prepared. All of the adults here are fully qualified wizards and, especially Tonks and Alastor, are trained to combat dark wizards. But Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and even Fred and George, who only last year finished school, are not.  
  
One of us could teach them, Professor, Tonks interrupted eagerly. Dark Magic, the spells and curses they might encounter in a duel. The ones that they don't learn in Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
And how to duel _properly_. Lockhart was utterly useless, Snape added crossly. McGonagall looked like she couldn't agree more.  
  
Yes, of course, Tonks, Severus. That is exactly was I was thinking myself. Tonks, you and Alastor, however, are out of the question. The both of you are needed at the Ministry and I am grateful enough that you still attend these meetings. I could not ask you to do more.  
  
Tonks appeared disappointed while Moody didn't seem to care.  
  
It is to my understanding, though, Severus, that you have knowledge of Dark Magic? Snape nodded. Well if you would like, I am sure you could properly prepare our younger members a few nights a week.  
  
Snape almost looked excited to teach his own mini Defense Against the Dark Arts class, even if it would be 83% Gryffindors. But he glanced down at his left arm and said quietly, Professor, you know I would be honored, but I do not know if I'll have time. Meetings are becoming more frequent...  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely. Quite understandable, Severus. I know you already have a lot on your plate as it is. I believe Remus, Bill, you are up to the task? The two made eye contact and nodded affirmatively. You two have some knowledge on the subject, and if you need to, you can consult books and research information you may not be experts on. In fact, if -  
  
I can do it, sir, a voice interrupted from the other end of the table. Fifteen heads turned to stare at the blond who was leaning back casually in his chair.  
  
Do what, Draco? Dumbledore inquired, eying him curiously.  
  
Teach them about Dark Magic, he replied, gesturing at the five teenagers on the other side of Tonks.  
  
Before Dumbledore could say something, Snape spoke.  
  
Draco, I think it would be preferred if an _adult_ was doing the teaching.  
  
Draco frowned. Yes, but I know more Dark Magic than Lupin and Weasley could ever hope to learn from a few lousy books. I know more than they would _want_ to learn.  
  
Draco, even knowing your father, I doubt you know _that_ much, Snape countered languidly.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed. Then obviously you don't know him as well as you _think_ you do, now do you? the blond asked icily. Snape looked somewhat appalled at the tone of voice Draco had used. Draco didn't care; what the hell was up Snape's arse?  
  
Draco, I still think you are exaggerating on your knowledge of the Dark Arts. And you are way out -  
  
_Don't_ tell me what I do or do not know! Professor, I have been learning Dark Magic since I was old enough to hold a wand. I know over seventy five spells and curses, not to mention quite a few lethal potions. I could tell you incantations, effects on the victim, counter spells and curses, and, he leaned forward, I could even explain what the victim feels under the curses, considering a majority of them have been used on me, he said quietly. But that's not my point. My point is that I _know_ what I'm talking about, and I could teach them what they will need to know if they come face to face with a Dark wizard. I mean, I _live_ with one.  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow and gave him a venomous stare. Draco angrily glared back before turning to face the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure Weasley and Lupin are busy doing other important jobs for the Order. I can do this so they won't have to. It's the least I can do.  
  
He wasn't allowed to attend Death Eater meetings because the Dark Lord knew Dumbledore would be suspicious if Lucius kept pulling him out of school. He was supposed to keep his eyes and ears open for dirt on Dumbledore or Potter. So Draco would only be able to spy for the Order when he was at home, which wouldn't be until Christmas break.  
  
Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at the boy. Yes, Draco, you are correct. Remus and Bill are quite occupied with Order tasks. I suppose -  
  
Professor, he has to be able to _get along_ with those he is to work with, and _they_ with him. It's no secret that he, Potter, Weasley, and Granger cannot stay in the same room without insulting or hexing each other, Snape burst in.  
  
Ahh, so _that's_ what was crawling up Snape's arse. _It was legitimate_, Draco supposed, _for it _was_ true_. But he was still angry that his Head of House didn't trust that he would forget the past in order to work with the Golden Trio. He didn't need to be their best friend, but he didn't have to be their worst enemy either.  
  
Dumbledore was about to say something, in Draco's favor, Draco hoped, but another voice spoke up.  
  
Professor, the four of us promised at the beginning of this meeting we would put aside our differences to work together. We won't insult each other, thus not provoking fights, so we should be able to work peacefully together.  
  
Potter's right, Severus, McGonagall agreed. I think they are mature enough to realize the severity of current situations and finally stop their rivalry.  
  
Severus shot daggers at her. Figures she would back Potter up. He didn't know why, considering he was backing up Draco (which was strange in itself), and she wouldn't have the opportunity to complain about him anymore. Maybe the world was just out to get him.  
  
If it makes you feel better, we could take turns standing in on their meetings. There is enough of us so it wouldn't be too much for each of us to do it every so often, Remus suggested.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. Excellent idea, Remus. Is that alright with you, Severus?  
  
Yes, the world was definitely out to get him. He was outnumbered so he just shrugged. I suppose, he answered, giving Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Harry stern glares.  
  
Then it's settled, Dumbledore said. You can do it, Draco. You, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George can use the extra Order room over there on Friday at 7:00. Does that interfere with anyone's Quidditch practice?  
  
Draco shook his head, as did Harry and Ron.  
  
I can volunteer to be there. I'm off duty by 6:00 that day.  
  
Thank you Tonks. Just don't volunteer too much. You do need some time to sleep and eat, Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
Tonks smiled and promised she wouldn't and then the meeting continued. Dumbledore then spoke, in general terms, about what else needed to be done as far as safety and precautions were concerned. Draco paid attention, but had a small smile on his face. He didn't understand why McGonagall, Lupin, or especially Potter had supported him, but he didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was some of them somewhat trusted him. That was a start. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all. And where in Merlin's name had he heard the name Tonks before? It was really irritating him now whenever someone said it.  
  
At 11:00, the meeting ended. Mrs. Weasley ordered the Gryffindor Trio to bed at once. After all, it was very very late. They and McGonagall exited through a tap door connected to McGonagall's office. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, the twins, and Bill, all departed through a tap door on the opposite wall Draco and Snape had come through. Dumbledore and Hagrid used one that appeared under a painting of an upset witch who kept dabbing at her puffy blue eyes with a lacy handkerchief. Judging from her clothes, Draco guessed she was from Middle Age upper class. _Probably just lost her husband in some war_, he thought as he and Snape entered Snape's office through their tap door. _Doesn't really boost the morale of the Order, now does it?  
  
_After Snape curtly bid him good-night and headed off to wherever his sleeping quarters were, Draco spun around and quietly began his journey to the Third Floor Corridor. He stopped several times and hid because he heard footsteps, but after checking for teachers or Filch and finding no one, he continued.  
  
Once in the mirror room, he sat down and immediately was totally entranced by the images. Somewhere in his pool of delirium, he felt anger that the mirror life wasn't true. Why couldn't it be? He saw it, right there in the mirror. Why? _Why_? He never wanted something so badly in his life. He crawled closer to the mirror until his nose almost touched the glass and just sat there. He wanted to be as close to that life as he could get. He was unaware of anything except the now up close, blurred, images and the ache of longing reverberating through him. Which is why he never heard the door open and close, or the footsteps behind him. He reached up and touched his father's smiling face, disappointed when all he felt was cold glass. He moved his hand to touch his own content face.  
  
he whispered. He had both hands on the mirror groping for what he could never have and kept whispering why?' when he was hoisted up by his arms and dragged away from the mirror.  
  
he asked angrily. Why can't it be true? I saw it. It's right there! I saw it! He said frantically, struggling to run back in front of the mirror, still not realizing he was being held by another human being. It's right there, I saw it, he mumbled, calming down a bit, But yet it's not true.  
  
Course it's not.  
  
Draco whipped around and his eyes widened as he wrenched his arm out of the other person's grip.  
  
Get your bloody hands off of me, **Potter**! _What the hell are you doing here?_  
  
The raven-haired boy glared. I wouldn't have touched you, _Malfoy_, except I was afraid you would go mental in front of the Mirror of Erised again.  
  
I did **not** go - wait, what did you call it?  
  
The Mirror of Erised. That's what it's called, Harry called over his shoulder as he walked over to the wall and sat down next to a silvery cloak and a ratty piece of parchment. Did you figure out what it does yet?  
  
Draco glared at him. Of course I know what it does, he said exasperatedly. It shows a perfect life.  
  
Harry wrinkled his nose. Err - not exactly. I guess you didn't read the engravement above the mirror.  
  
Read it? It's written in some made up language, how the hell am I supposed to read it?  
  
It's not made up, Harry stated. It's pure English. You just have to read it backwards.  
  
Draco spluttered.  
  
Go ahead. Just do me a favor and don't look into the mirror, please. I don't want to have to pry you away again.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry before storming over to the mirror and looking up. The inscription read: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.  
  
Draco read aloud and then put in the proper spacing. I show not your face but your hearts desire.  
  
So all he really, truly wanted was his father to love him.  
  
Mirror of Erised. Mirror of Desire, get it?  
  
Draco walked back over to Harry. Yes, I get it, Potter, he spat. Is that why you came here, to tell me about some stupid mirror?  
  
No. I came here to tell you that you have to stop coming here, he said from the ground.  
  
Draco looked violated. Excuse me? And who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and cannot do?  
  
Harry stood up. You don't understand what that mirror does to you, do you? You didn't see how you acted a few minutes ago, like you couldn't live without that mirror. And last night, had I not followed you, you would have never made it back to the dungeons by yourself.  
  
Draco stared at him. _That's_ how I got back? But I never saw you.  
  
Harry lifted the silver cloak. _An Invisibility Cloak_. That explains the shimmer and the breeze, and the footsteps tonight.  
  
You will waste away in front of that mirror, Malfoy. It will take your sanity. It gives you neither knowledge of truth. Just desire. You need to stay away from it.  
  
Draco was stunned. How did you know all that?  
  
Professor Dumbledore caught me sneaking up to visit it first year. He explained how it worked and told me not to come back. It was moved for a while, but then returned here, he said.  
  
Draco said, at a loss for words. What did you see? he asked curiously. You know, when you looked in the mirror.  
  
Harry's green eyes bore into his own. My family, he said simply. Draco didn't know why he hadn't guessed that before.  
  
What did you see?  
  
Draco looked down at the floor. My father...actually caring. He shrugged and raised a blond eyebrow at his enemy. Speaking of which, since when do you care enough to stalk me and tell met to say away from a mirror, Potter? Why would you care if I went insane?  
  
At the beginning of term, I honestly would not have, he smirked. But now, I don't know. You've changed.  
  
Draco's eyes blazed with anger. Oh, so now that I'm on the good side, Potter decides he'll be nice, is that it?  
  
No it's not, Malfoy, Harry glared. His voice lowered. I saw you, that morning when Snape brought you in to the Infirmary. I had an accident in Herbology that morning so Madam Pomfrey had to clean me up. Anyway, Snape barged in carrying you, and I have to admit, I was shocked. You were all bloody and cut up and -  
  
So you _pity_ me? Look, I don't need your-  
  
Would you _shut the hell up_ and listen? Harry growled.  
  
Draco folded his arms and glared furiously, but allowing Harry to continue.  
  
I also heard Snape's conversation with Madam Pomfrey. He said you had done the cuts yourself, but the bruises were from something, someone, else, and he was sure that it wasn't someone at school. It got me thinking, and to cut to the chase, I realized your life isn't as perfect as you like to make it seem. That maybe we had all underestimated you.  
  
Draco stood there, shell-shocked.  
  
Of course, that doesn't make up for the cruel remarks or tricks you've played on me or my friends in the past years, but it does shift the perspective.  
  
Draco still stood there, trying to overcome his shock.  
  
Didn't know you thought so deeply into things, he finally said.  
  
The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and walked over to collect his things. Yea, it's a dangerous habit sometimes.  
  
Draco's head spun. Never would he have thought he would be having a civilized conversation with his arch nemesis. Never did he think he would have this opportunity again...  
  
Potter, I think we need to start over.  
  
Harry turned and stared at him.  
  
I mean, it won't erase the past five years, but it might make the next two easier.  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
Draco looked at him. My name is Draco Malfoy. He held out his hand, unknowingly holding his breath.  
  
Emerald eyes met sapphire as Gryffindor joined hands with Slytherin.  
  
Harry. Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Ahh! Yay, they're sorta friends!! Hope that wasn't too sappy or lame. May I repeat, this WILL NOT be a slash fic between Draco and Harry. Now that that's clear, please feel free to review.  
  
**Coming July 18th or 19th: Draco becomes a teacher...finally figures out where he knows the name Tonks...and has some words with a certain red head....**  
  
Quick Question: Did anyone see Pirates of the Caribbean?? Three words for Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom: OH...MY...GAWD!! Awesome, AWESOME movie, I suggest you go see it after you review my story :) 


	12. Professor Malfoy Part I: The Reason

**Disclaimer**: Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N**: I know I was supposed to get this up almost a week ago, but I was busy, and FF.net wasn't working half the time anyway. Sorry bout that. This chapter is being split into two parts, cause it was extremely long, lol. Part II will be up as soon as I finish typing and proofing it.  
  
**Kat**: I know the adults of the Order were very OOC, I just wanted them to agree with Draco and be done with it, lol. I should have spent more time on them, but hey, nobody's perfect. As for Molly, I figured that after what happened at the end of 5th year, she could relent a little so they could learn to defend themselves properly should something like that happen again. I believe I answered most of your other questions in this chapter, but I'm not 100% sure. Thank you for the review, I don't usually take criticism well, but I was glad you took the time to point out my mistakes. I'll try to keep on improving in later chapters. :)  
  
**Danielley**: No, Tonks isn't spying for the bad guys, lol. She's actually a really awesome character. Now that your Dad's done with OotP, you can finally read it. Omg, I gotta call you to tell you about the dream I had about your cousin, how weird...if I forget to tell you, remind me :)  
  
**To all of you who saw Pirates of the Caribbean**: You ROCK!!! I think we all basically agree on the same things: Johnny Depp was hott and hilarious and Orlando Bloom was absolutely gorgeous. (the feather hat ::sigh::) I convinced my Youth Group to go see it, just so I could go see it again, lol. And there was only one other movie I deemed good enough to go see twice in theaters...Any guesses which?? ;-)  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 12: Professor Malfoy Part I: The Reason**  
  
  
  
Draco arrived twenty minutes early on Friday evening. Professor Snape had shown him the pattern on his wall that triggered the tap door into appearing. Snape had then left to attend a Death Eater meeting. Draco had felt the burn of the Dark Mark but knew that under no circumstances was he to leave to attend also.  
  
So now Draco roamed around the large rectangular room the Order used to meet. Snape had told him there was once another headquarters, but the owner had recently died and they could not longer use the house. Dumbledore had opened this room, a secret room that was rumored to have been used by the Founders themselves. That might explain the giant wall length tapestry that depicted the four founders and their qualities that now resided in the students of their houses; Helga Hufflepuff's patience and loyalty, Rowena Ravenclaw's wit and intelligence, Godric Gryffindor's bravery and boldness, and Salazar Slytherin's slyness and ambition.  
  
Draco strolled from painting to painting. many were painted by talented hands, the details perfect down to the last stroke. The various tapestries were not as large as the one of the Founders but still were intricately woven, narrating different scenes from history. Draco recognized a theme among the room's artwork: wars and fighting. One blue tapestry displayed the goblins' bloody revolt; another maroon one portrayed a duel between two fair-haired wizards dressed in medieval robes. There was a particularly old portrait of a group of grim-faced wizards apparently ready for battle. The ancestors of aurors, maybe? Draco shrugged and moved toward the next painting. It was of a dragon-slaying, the magnificent silver-gray beast laying in a pool of its own blood while its conqueror stood upon its back, shaking his crimson sword above his head and yelling victoriously. The smaller painting to the right illustrated a battle taking place on a grassy river bank; wizards with pointed wands, slumped corpses littering the ground, bursts of light shooting back and forth, and a lot of shouting. Most of the other paintings and tapestries were of the same nature. And Dumbledore thought them _cheery_? They were bloody damn depressing in Draco's opinion.  
  
The artwork in here is pretty spectacular, isn't it?  
  
Draco turned to find the pink-haired woman from the other night, except she now had dark purple hair. Tonks.  
  
Spectacular, yes. But it's not very encouraging to the Order, now is it?  
  
She chuckled. I suppose not. But the different colors _do_ brighten the room.  
  
Draco shrugged. He didn't want to make any smart ass comments tonight. He had been able to hold his tongue at the meeting, but when Potter startled him in the mirror room, he had slipped. (Surprisingly, he had heeded Potter's words and hadn't returned to the mirror, as difficult as it was.) He morphed back into the nasty Draco everyone knew him as. He couldn't do that here; he had to earn everyone's trust. Or they could turn him in to the Ministry and he would have no hope for a future. He swore to himself he would be civil tonight, even if no one else was.  
  
He looked at Tonks' head again. So what color is your hair naturally? he asked conversationally.  
  
She grinned and scrunched up her nose as if in deep thought. A second later the dark hue of purple was replaced by a dirty blond color. Draco's eyebrow arched.  
  
This is my natural color, but I thought blond made me look too preppy. I like it short and spiked and in crazy colors.  
  
Draco was impressed. I've never met a - I forget what they call people that can change their physical appearance - meta something.  
  
she answered proudly.  
  
Yes, that's it. What else can you change?  
  
Tonks spent the next few minutes changing the shape of her nose, the color of her eyes, and the length of her hair. She stopped when she had short spiky purple hair again, her normal nose, and pale blue eyes.  
  
They're not as pretty a blue as yours, she stated, referring to their eyes,but they'll do.  
  
Draco slightly grinned. This girl wasn't too bad. She had a likable personality and didn't seem to care that he was a Slytherin or a Malfoy. Definitely good.  
  
Or should I say your mother's eyes? Because that's obviously where you get them from.  
  
His grin faltered. You know my mother?  
  
Tonks bit her lip. Well, no, but I've seen so many pictures of her. Aunt Narcissa's bright blue eyes always stand out.  
  
Draco stared at her. _Aunt_ Narcissa?  
  
Why, yes. My mother and she are sisters.  
  
Draco's eyes lit in recognition. Aunt Andy! That's why your name sounds so familiar. Aunt Andromeda married a muggle with the last name of Tonks.  
  
Tonks grinned. Yep, dear old Daddy, she chuckled.  
  
Mum used to tell me all about her family when my father wasn't around. She never mentioned you though, he added thoughtfully. So that makes you my...  
  
First cousin, yes.  
  
_Whoa_, so he had family that _wasn't_ evil. Nice to know.  
  
She probably doesn't know I exist, Tonks informed him. Once she announced she was to marry a muggle, the Black family shunned her. No one spoke to her because she wasn't marrying a respectable Pureblood, she said rolling her eyes.  
  
Draco nodded. Yea, my grandparents refused to let Mum contact her, but it didn't stop her from telling me all about her and showing me pictures, Draco grinned. Your mother is the one with curly brown hair, right?  
  
Yes, that's her, Tonks chuckled. She's crazy, but I gotta love her.  
  
Draco smiled, thinking of his own mother and how he loved her dearly. He then pictured the oldest sister, the one with the raven black hair. Aunt Bella is the one with straight black hair then, he spoke more to himself. You know, she was actually quite pretty before she landed herself in Azkaban.  
  
Tonks visibly tensed and her eyes narrowed. Bellatrix Lestrange deserved Azkaban, and should go back as soon as she's caught again, she said coldly.  
  
Draco frowned at the amount of vengeance in Tonks' voice, as if Bellatrix Lestrange had done something to her personally instead of just being a vile coldhearted criminal. He was about to question her on it when the Weasley twins emerged through one tap door followed five seconds later by the Wonder Trio through another. Tonks' whole countenance brightened again at the sight of the five Gryffindors.  
  
Hey there! she called.  
  
They each greeted her and then turned to Draco. Had Draco not been in the position he was, he would have found the situation before him comical. One of the twins, in blue pants, stood with arms crossed sending Draco a reproachful glare while the other, in gray pants, leaned on one leg and gave the blond an icy stare. They were probably still pissed about Draco causing them to be banned from Quidditch the year before. Draco inwardly shrugged. Their younger brother appeared sullen and cross, face not yet red since Draco hadn't spoken yet. Granger stood primly next to him, staring expectantly at him, waiting for him to mess something up so she could correct them. And Potter, at the end of the line, appeared quite bored, for he had his hands in his pockets and a lazy smirk upon his face. Maybe Draco wasn't the only one who found the scene a bit amusing.  
  
he drawled, since you all look absolutely _delighted_ to be here, why don't we get settled in our..._classroom_, he smirked. He received a few glares and led the group towards one of the smaller rooms and entered.  
  
I chose this one because it's slightly bigger and has mirrors along this one wall, and that will help once we start practicing hexes and whatnot.  
  
No one said anything. Tonks conjured up seven large comfortable armchairs. She placed hers in the corner to watch and sat down (after tripping over it - she explained to Draco that she's _very_ clumsy).  
  
Alright, I'll just sit here unless you need me. Otherwise, continue with your class, Mr. Malfoy, she winked. She received five glares and just shrugged innocently.  
  
Draco grinned, which then turned into his trademark smirk. Okay, _class_, you may sit down.  
  
He was answered with ten narrowed eyes and Granger's mouth as they sat down.  
  
Look, _Malfoy_, I don't know what possessed Professor Dumbledore to allow you to do this, because we all know you're a ruddy git. But, just because he put you in this position of power over us, does **not** mean you can degrade us and treat -  
  
he cut in,it's called a sense of humor.  
  
She glared. Pardon me for mistaking obnoxious abuse of power for your sense of humor, since you're not actually being funny, she scoffed. Draco swore he saw the Weasel beaming at her.  
  
It was funny to me, he replied shortly. He remembered his promise to act civilly. If he thought about it, he _was_ being civil - he wasn't dealing out insults like normal. Well, not blatant ones at least.  
  
You know, Malfoy, you can't call all of us by our last names. If you haven't noticed, there are three of us Weasleys, Ron sneered.  
  
Draco remained calm and bit his lip to keep from saying something degrading about the Weasley clan. _Be nice. Trust. Must gain. _Hmm. Valid point. I'll call each of you by your first name if you call me by mine. Deal?  
  
They were a bit taken back by the absence of cutting remarks, and each nodded their head slowly. Ron looked slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to get a rise out of Draco.  
  
Um, which one of you is Fred and which is George? Draco asked glancing between the two.  
  
The twins smirked.  
  
I'm Fred, the one on the right said.  
  
The other was scandalized. How dare you? _I'm_ Fred.  
  
No, _I _am.  
  
  
  
Fine then, I'll be George.  
  
Actually, I think I want to be George now.  
  
No! I said it first.  
  
Too bad. I'm George.  
  
No -  
  
The one in blue pants is George, the one in gray is Fred.   
  
The twins groaned. Harry, we were having fun. Why'd you take his side??  
  
The seeker rolled his eyes. I'm not taking sides, George. I think Professor Dumbledore is right - we are going to need to know this stuff in the future. We're not going to learn anything by fooling around.  
  
Thank you, Pot - Harry, Draco said, quite relieved. And he thought the younger Weasel was bad. Now I suppose I'll begin.  
  
Before you do, _Draco_, Ron spat, I want to know _why_ you're doing this.  
  
Because...you have no knowledge of Dark Magic and I do? Draco guessed, rolling his eyes.  
  
the red head hissed. Why you're suddenly on _our _side now? What changed you?  
  
_Stay calm. Nice. Trust._ I don't believe that's any of your business, Draco told him nonchalantly.  
  
Oh, but it is if you expect us to trust and work with you. I mean, how do we know you're not really spying for He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Ron could tell he struck a nerve, for Draco narrowed his eyes.  
  
Because I can tell you I'm not, he replied curtly.  
  
continued Ron snidely, but your word is not going to be good enough.  
  
Ron sat back in his seat triumphantly, one eyebrow lifted, waiting expectantly. The room filled with thick tension as Ron stared the blond down. Draco felt a whirlwind of emotions rip through him, but his face remained a glare. Anger, hurt, determination, and an inexplicable urge to prove himself to them. To prove he wasn't the person they believed him to be. He shouldn't have to, but he felt he needed to. To prove that Harry was possibly right: they had all underestimated him.  
  
Ron asked impatiently.  
  
Draco's glare softened into an impassive expression as he stared at the ground. He could tell them that his word would just have to do. He could lie and say he was doing it for the benefit of wizards everywhere. He could even say to sod off and let him teach. Instead he stood up and unclasped his robe. Removing his wand from the pocket, he tossed the robe over the back of his armchair.  
  
Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Tonks watched in confusion as Draco marched over to the mirrored wall. He rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry now had an idea of what he was doing.  
  
You know what, just let it go Ron. It's not important. Dumbledore trusts him; we all know the man has a knack for trusting the right people.  
  
His four friends stared at him.  
  
And he also trusts Snape, Ron argued.  
  
So? Sure, Snape's a git, but he's obviously risking a lot to do what he does, as is Mal - Draco. I don't think we should pry.  
  
Ron looked offended. After all he's said and done to you, Hermione, me and my family? I think we have every right to pry.  
  
I for one would like to know why he's had such a sudden change of heart, Hermione added.  
  
Why the hell do you keep defending him? Fred asked.  
  
Because he's already seen what I'm going to show you, a voice said from the mirror.   
  
Draco observed their reactions through the glass. He heard a few gasps and saw five pairs of widened eyes. He turned and walked closer to them.  
  
he said, motioning his many scars and bruises, are why I'm doing this. Not because I want to kill Voldemort, not because I want to rid the world of all evil, not because I want to play hero, but because I want revenge. His eyes burned with rage and his voice began to pick up momentum. I want Lucius Malfoy to feel the pain and anger he's made me feel all these years. I want to do anything he wouldn't approve of, anything to bring him down. Which is why I'm now on your' side. Satisfied, his angry blue eyes sought out the youngest Weasley,   
  
The redhead nodded mutely, too shocked for words, as his eyes, along with the others', roamed the many marks on the blond's upper torso. They were stunned by the amount of bitterness in Draco's speech and the implication that the marks were the handiwork of Lucius Malfoy. They realized that there was more to Draco Malfoy than they had imagined.  
  
Draco stared at them, his breathing slightly ragged, before briskly striding back to the mirror.   
  
His skin once again became milky white, void of all blemishes. He could still feel their stares as he rebuttoned his shirt.  
  
I figured out a long time ago that if that's how a Death Eater treats his own family, it wasn't something I wanted to participate in wholeheartedly. Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ have a heart. Unfortunately, he unrolled his sleeves as he met their eyes in the mirror, I didn't have much of a choice.  
  
He walked back to his seat and picked up his robe, and put it back on, trying to recompose himself after his outburst.  
  
I have never liked your father. Obviously. Come to think of it, I've never liked you either. But, I thought with the way you went on about things, your father treated you like a prince. Just another rich father overspoiling his bratty son, Ron commented. I never imagined that he would be that cruel to you. Sure, a helpless Muggle or a Gryffindor or something, but never to _you_. I mean, you're his _son_.  
  
Draco looked up with a hollow look in his eyes. He suddenly seemed a lot older than he should be. Yes, one would think that. It's all images; he needs to look good. But when it comes to Lucius Malfoy's malice, nothing is unimaginable. Nothing.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Part II: The Lesson' coming as soon as it's typed, and I should have Chapter 13 out by Harry Potter's birthday. If you don't know when that is, you should be shot. J/K!!  
  
Thank you very much for all the reviews. Never had I imagined I could receive so many. The highest I ever came in the NSYNC section was 99 - and I thought that was cool - but here I have 165! Like, _whoa_. I love reading them; when I turn on the computer, this is the first website I go to, lol. So once again, thank you all so very much :)


	13. Professor Malfoy Part II: The Lesson

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. Oh, and any lamely named Dark Curses and spells you don't recognize belong to me. Some have latin roots to them, but I changed most of them to make them sound cool. ::shrugs::  
  
**A/N:** Hey! Guess what? I saw _Die Hard_ at my friend's house yesterday. It's old (1988 I think), and the special effects were nothing to what they can do today. Alan Rickman (aka Professor Severus Snape) looked like Tom Green. And he played a German guy - accent sounded good, considering he's already got the British one, lol. Ohhh!! And _The Borrowers_ was on the Disney Channel yesterday at 2:00 - I taped it, lol. Just for little Peagreen (aka TOM FELTON!!). I'm sure you don't care about my movie news, but I just thought I'd share :)  
  
Thank you so much for the reviews. I actually wasn't expecting them, because I thought I would get this up earlier and people would just review after this part, but life got in the way of me typing. Grr. So thank you so much for reviewing, and waiting patiently for the second part of chapter 12. Like I said, expect Chapter 13 by Harry's birthday (also JKR's birthday).   
  
As for other movie I saw twice in theaters, no one has gotten it yet. **I Heart Seamus** - I haven't seen Finding Nemo (although I wanted to) and I'm going to see How To Deal today. Think: what movie has everyone who has read this story probably seen? Hint: The two actors I mentioned above are in it ;-)  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 12: Professor Malfoy Part II: The Lesson**  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later Draco Malfoy was pacing back and forth in front of his five pupils' explaining the thirteen Deadly Curses. He was somewhat ashamed that he knew such sadistic magic, but was glad he was able to inform others of what they were up against when it came to Death Eaters. _Thank you Daddy._   
  
They're designed like the Cruciatus Curse, he told them. Their whole point is to cause the opponent horrific physical pain in the hopes of rendering them helpless in order to win. They're also used in the torturing of innocent people. Popular among Death Eaters, he remarked dryly. Unlike the Cruciatus, which causes immense amounts of pure pain, each curse pin points a specific painful action. Stabbing Curse stabs, Burning Curse burns, you get the picture.  
  
Can they kill? Hermione questioned.  
  
Draco nodded grimly. If used enough. They won't kill a person if a spell is only used once or twice. But if it's used numerous times, one right after the other, it can. Usually, a decent duelist has time to retaliate before it can be used continuously.  
  
Are there any counterspells for them? one of the twins - Draco checked the pants - Fred, asked.  
  
Actually there aren't, Draco replied. Fortunately, they only last between twenty and thirty seconds depending on the curse and the strength of the curser.  
  
That's not _that_ long, Ron stated.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. Oh really? It is if you're the person under the curse. Believe me, I would know, he said quietly.  
  
Draco wanted to slap himself. He was telling them too many personal things. He wanted to gain their trust, but did it have to be by being so damn open? He hadn't meant to show them his bruises; it had been an impulsive action. But it seemed to make them understand his need to help the Order. Still, he didn't want their pity either. He cleared his throat.  
  
Anyway, I'd really like to show you the curses - let you experience them firsthand. Hear the spell, have a visual of what happens to the victim, and get a feel for about how long each lasts.  
  
The color instantly drained from their faces. The twins glanced at the other uneasily, Ron looked skeptical, Harry looked tense, and Hermione was obviously worried. Draco rolled his blue eyes.  
  
Oh, _relax_. I'm not planning on practicing them on any of _you_. And here I thought Gryffindors were brave. You all acted like finals had come early, he said. Well, except you, Hermione. You acted like they had been canceled, he smirked.  
  
She glared at him as the color slowly returned to each of their faces.  
  
Hey, Tonks, would you mind being my special assistant this evening? He flashed her a pearly grin and she rolled her eyes as she stood up.  
  
Harry's eyes widened in alarm. You can't practice them on her either! You could just _tell_ us about them; there's no need for inflicting pain on anyone tonight.  
  
As Tonks walked past Harry, she playfully punched him in the arm. Oy, Harry! I'm not an Auror for nothing. Besides, I think Draco's right. I think you should see what a few of the curses are all about. Like he said, hear the incantation, see the body's reactions to each, etcetera. That way, if, God forbid, you ever encounter one, you'll know what to expect. She smiled. Don't worry about me. I can handle it. I'm woman enough, she grinned.  
  
Harry began to argue, but Draco cut him off.  
  
Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Harry. I'm not going to hurt her either.  
  
Harry was surprised. You're not?  
  
As was Tonks. You're not? she echoed. Then how are we going to show them the curses?  
  
Draco didn't answer; just once again unclasped his robe.  
  
Do you enjoy stripping in public? George smirked. Draco glared and with a flick of his wand, his chair and robe landed next to Harry's seat, leaving the floor clear for him and Tonks.  
  
She eyed him suspiciously. she began sternly, how are we going to show them the curses? she repeated.  
  
Draco looked at her innocently. Why, you're going to brush up on your Dark Magic while I stand here and attempt to ignore the pain.  
  
Tonks' eyes widened. Oh no. Absolutely not. I am not going to purposely hurt you. Harry's right, there's no need for unnecessary pain tonight.  
  
Draco arched an eyebrow. But yet you were willing to be put under the curses yourself a few minutes ago?  
  
She rolled her eyes. Yes, but I'm an _Auror_ for heaven's sake! she cried exasperatedly. I've been _trained_ to handle Dark Magic. You, on the other hand -  
  
- have been put under all the curses before, Draco finished.  
  
Tonks glared. I believe you. I don't see the point in making you go through them again. Her gaze softened. You already have enough bruises.  
  
I know, Draco sighed, reminded of his stupidly impulsive action from before. But I don't want to cast the curses on them, he said, motioning to Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George, because I don't want to hurt them. You don't need to be sore or bruised, not with all the things the Ministry has Aurors doing nowadays. Who does that leave? Me. He looked at her. Please? You said yourself you thought they should see them. You don't have to do all of them; I sure as hell don't want to go through all that pain. Just a few for demonstration purposes only.  
  
Tonks nodded. It seemed pointless to argue with her cousin - he was quite good at it. Fine. _Just_ a few, she warned.  
  
Draco nodded. He turned back to the Gryffindors. The first Deadly Curse is the Cutting Curse. It, as it's name implies, leaves cuts all over an opponent's skin. They're not deep, but there's a large amount of them. Tonks?  
  
She hesitantly pointed her wand.   
  
Draco flinched as invisible knives began to cut at his skin. Hermione gasped while the boys were horrified. After twenty five seconds, the cutting stopped. Draco hadn't made one noise.  
  
Are you alright? Tonks asked, rushing over.  
  
Draco nodded and wiped blood from his cut lip. Fine. As you can see, there are a lot of cuts, he said holding out his arms. Which result in a large loss of blood that weakens the opponent.  
  
Tonks pointed her wand at him. Draco's wounds began to heal themselves, leaving faint scars. She caught their surprised looks. I took a mediwitch course once. Figured it might be helpful, she explained.  
  
Draco smiled in thanks. The Lightning Curse basically electrocutes the victim. Every three seconds, a jolt shocks the person. Each time the spell is used, the electric shocks get stronger, eventually killing the person. But, like I said before, the spell has to be used quite a few times before it kills. You should have time to react in between - use either the Disarming Spell or a blocking spell. Or something that slows them down for a few seconds. He looked at Tonks expectantly. Lightning Curse?  
  
She sighed. _Durus vexatio_.  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his body jolt eight times. It didn't draw any blood or form bruises, just felt like a painful power surge through his body. The Gryffindors watched in horror. The pain passed after twenty four seconds. Draco slowly opened his eyes as Tonks started to interrogate him. He shook her off with an I'm fine. Tonks sighed as he continued.  
  
The Weakening Curse is meant to drain the opponent's strength. However, unlike the other twelve Deadly Curses, it doesn't end after half of a minute. The person will be slightly weaker than they were before the curse. This spell is usually used continuously towards the end of a duel, to finish a person off, so to speak, Draco recited, using his father's exact words.  
  
This is the last one buddy, Tonks said.   
  
Draco braced himself, but once his strength started decreasing he found it difficult to stand. The others watched, astonished at how strong the curse was. The Slytherin was quite dizzy, and when he began to sway on his feet, Tonks levitated him into his seat, which she moved back in front of the others.  
  
I never liked that one, Draco breathed once the spell wore off.  
  
Well, I don't like any of them, so that's enough. Now just explain the rest out loud, Tonks commanded once the spell wore off. Draco raised an eyebrow at her tone of authority. Only one other woman could use such a voice on him, and get the effect she wanted - his mother. _Must be a Black thing_, he mused as he nodded and obeyed.  
  
He described the Stabbing Curse, the Disjointment Curse, the Burning Curse, the Scratching Curse. The Gryffindors had questions on the Stinging Curse, which caused the eyes to sting until they bled. Draco told them how the Compression Curse left one gasping for breath, and how the ear-splitting sounds of the Shrieking Curse could leave a person deaf. The Ripping Curse tore at the skin, leaving sizable open wounds; the Pin Prick Curse made a person look like a sieve; and a person twisted like a snake under the Coil Curse. Draco explained each curse's purpose, when they're usually used within a duel, and spoke each incantation. Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were appalled that wizards could create such sadistic curses.  
  
Appalled wasn't quite the word to describe after hearing the next group of curses. Disturbed might do the trick.  
  
Draco spoke about the five Mental Curses, which were modeled after the Imperious Curse. A person felt trapped in their own mind when under these curses. The Formidabilis Curse was a spell version of a boggart. It causes whatever the person feared the most to appear in his/her mind. The Pavareus Curse generates a tremendous feeling of panic, which lessened a person's defensive reactions. The Desiderous Curse shows the caster their victim's greatest desire; they then use that desire to manipulate and lure the person into giving them what they want (In the Death Eaters' case, more followers for Voldemort). The Diffisus Curse depletes a person's confidence, thus making them insecure in their magical ability. The last Mental Curse was the Dolescerous Curse. It caused the victim immense mental or emotional pain.  
  
It's the only Mental Curse that I haven't been successful in fighting off, Draco drawled. You see, like the Imperious Curse, these curses must be resisted in the mind. For the Diffisus and Dolescerous curses, there are countercurses. But that's only if you can resist the curse in your mind first. The countercurses are useless if you can't.  
  
So if we can block the Imperious, we can block the others?  
  
Draco looked at Harry. Yes, but it takes practice. He checked his watch. Which we will begin next Friday, seeing as it's 10:00 now.  
  
Same time? Fred inquired.  
  
Draco answered.  
  
We can't, Ron said, meaning Harry and himself. We have Quidditch practice until 7:30.  
  
Draco eyed Harry. Oh? Your captain couldn't possibly end it a little earlier?  
  
Harry shook his head. Nope. We don't want to make anyone suspicious, do we? Besides we have a scrimmage the next day. Against _you_.  
  
Draco sighed dramatically. Oh yes. Then you better get all the practice you can. I've been working my team quite hard lately.  
  
So have I, Harry smirked. We'll be here 8:00, after practice.  
  
Draco said. Make it 8:00 for everyone.  
  
I'll arrange the chaperone for you, Tonks offered.  
  
The group exited the mirrored room in silence and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George left through their respective tap doors. Draco sighed as they disappeared. Tonks put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
You okay? I should not have agreed to cast those curses on you, she said. I'm sorry. I should have been more responsible, she apologized.  
  
He shrugged. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Hey, don't apologize, you just did what I asked. It's okay, he reassured her.  
  
She seemed dubious. If you say so. You know, I'm sure Professor Snape has a Strengthening Potion if you still feel a little weak from the curse.  
  
Draco nodded. Yea. Potions cabinet in classroom two, fourth shelf on the right, third potion from the left, he grinned. I've snuck into his classroom quite a few times.  
  
Tonks laughed. Sounds like it. What would happen if I dropped him an owl? she wiggled her eyebrows.  
  
Draco stared. You wouldn't.  
  
She grinned. No, I wouldn't.  
  
he smiled. He looked at the walls where the five Gryffindors had walked through, and then looked back at Tonks.  
  
How come you accepted me so fast? You didn't even think twice. I mean, I'm a Slytherin, and a Malfoy on top of that. People don't say good stuff about us.  
  
Tonks shrugged and focused her eyes on some faraway point past Draco's head. I've learned not to listen to what people say about others. They accuse people of doing things without getting the full story. And because of that someone can suffer.   
  
She looked at Draco again. And people don't have your full story. They see you, and hear you, but they don't _understand_ you. Their opinions are based on stereotypes. You just have to give everyone time to get past the stereotype they have of you and see where you're really coming from.  
  
Draco nodded doubtfully. Yea, I guess so.  
  
Don't worry too much, she smiled. Now get to bed. And sleep late tomorrow since it's Saturday.  
  
He brightened and smirked. Believe me, I will, he said walking toward his tap door.   
  
She grinned. she said as he disappeared. Then she herself disappeared through a door under the dragon-slaying painting.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
oOoOoO!! Okay, lemme just explain one thing, cause I have a feeling someone out there will ask: Why Draco was so insistent on having the curses performed on him.   
No, he is not fond of pain. He didn't understand why he was being so open with them - he thinks it will gain him unwanted pity. So he wants the curses done to him in order to prove he doesn't need their pity. Get it? If not, don't worry; I know it's a tad confusing. But hey, our Draco _is_ confused right now. I mean, he's finally starting to think for himself, make his own choices, and it's difficult for him to break away from all that he's ever known; all he's ever been taught. Kinda scary. Still don't get it? Just review.  
  
Can anyone spot where I used alphabetical order in this chapter? Just thought some of you may find it a fun challenge. ::shrugs:: Whoever finds it gets Dunkin Donuts Munchkins!! The box is sitting on my counter downstairs ::drools:: Munchkins are great....  
  



	14. First Mission

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Happy Birthday Harry & JKR!!!! :) Once again, thank you so much for all of your reviews, I think you guys are going to get me past 200....I think I'll have a party and you're all invited, lol.  
  
**Kat:** Glad I cleared everything up for you. I know the curses were repetitive, but I wanted to have 13, since it's an unlucky number and whatnot, so I just thought up a bunch of painful things and made them all curses, lol. Thanks for your review!!  
  
**Venus725:** Yes, there should definitely be more Draco stories out there. I think there are quite a few though. A majority of the stories on my Favorites list are either Draco angst, Draco/Hermione (ahhh, love that pairing!!), or something else involving Draco (I have a time travel fic on there - I highly recommend it, it's awesome; a Draco befriends Harry one, and a bunch of others lol) Thanks for reviewing, glad ya like the story!!  
  
**Fain Oakenbringer:** Yea, had I been Draco I wouldn't have insisted on having those curses done on me. But he doesn't want the Gryffs' pity, so he tries to prove himself by wanting them done on him. Strange, but Draco's a confused little boy right now, lol. Thanks for the review.   
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 13: First Mission**  
  
  
  
It was a Wednesday, three days until Draco would be departing for Malfoy Manor to spend two weeks of Christmas vacation with his family. He had received a note from Professor Snape telling him that his personal Advanced Potions class' was at 8:00 that evening and he should not miss it. Which really translated into The Order meeting is at 8:00 tonight. Be there.' Seeing that Snape wrote personal', Draco knew he would be the only student attending.  
  
His Dark Magic classes with the Gryffindors were canceled for that Friday since anyone who was leaving Hogwarts had to wake early. And Fred and George wouldn't have been there anyway. They had left for Romania on Monday to visit their older brother. Draco believed Hermione was going home, and Harry was spending Christmas with the Weasleys. It was a shame; Draco was really starting to like those evenings.  
  
Eventually, he and the Gryffindors had been able to get along civilly. No insults or glares, just six students working together toward the same goal: resisting the Mental Curses. Draco was amazed at how well they were doing. After only five weeks, each was able to resist at least one curse.  
  
Fred could easily resist the Diffisus Curse, while his brothers were particularly skilled at breaking the Formidabilis Curse. Hermione, probably because of her calm attitude, had been painfully perfect in fighting off the Pavareus Curse. And Harry? Well, Draco could now understand why the Dark Lord never was able to kill the kid. Harry was able to break four of the five Mental Curses, and had come much closer than Draco did when attempting the Dolescerous Curse. He had an iron will, determination, and courage that made the rest of Gryffindor House seem like Hufflepuffs.  
  
Draco sat on his bed an hour before the meeting, pointing his wand and concentrating on happy thoughts.  
  
_Expecto patronum_!  
  
A small wisp of white smoke was emitted from his wand. Draco pursed his lips and tried again.  
  
_Expecto patronum_!  
  
When he solicited a similar result, he sighed. Lupin had been the chaperone for one of the meetings and Draco had allowed him and Harry to teach Patronus Charms. Harry and Hermione were able to produce them perfectly, and all three Weasleys' Patronuses were slightly weaker than theirs, while Draco couldn't even discern what shape his took. Lupin had told him he wasn't concentrating enough, but Draco insisted he just didn't have many happy thoughts. Draco had thought of Quidditch, of his mother, of his teaching', of the fact that he was getting revenge on his father - but nothing worked. _I just need to try harder_, he supposed.  
  
He rolled his eyes and slipped his wand into his robe pocket. He left the Slytherin dungeons and headed to the Potion Masters' office. The sallow faced man nodded in greeting before locking the classroom and office doors and then tapping on the wall. The door opened to reveal most of the members chatting quietly amongst themselves. They all looked up when the Slytherins entered the room.  
  
Dumbledore smiled at them. Ah, Severus, Draco, please take seats. Good, we are just waiting for Arthur, Bill, and Minerva. He chuckled at his last colleague's name. She might be late though. She has quite a rowdy bunch in detention tonight.  
  
Severus smirked and sat down to the right of the Headmaster while Draco took a seat next to a grinning Tonks.  
  
How's everything going with you, little cousin?  
  
He rolled his eyes at the nickname she had bestowed upon him after she served as chaperone for a second time. (The last time, according to Dumbledore. There were other members who could do it so she could concentrate on her Auror duties.)  
  
Pretty well. How's it going with you?  
  
She shrugged. Oh, you know, same old, same old. Work's hectic, but whatever. Excited for Christmas?  
  
Draco stared at the table. Not really. I mean, I'm glad I get to see my mother, but other than that, it's no big deal.  
  
The now fuschia-haired woman frowned. That is _not_ the right Christmas attitude for a kid. You should be giddy and excited, with nothing but presents on your mind. Come on!  
  
She nudged his arm playfully and he shook his head. Before he could retort, the last three members of the Order finally entered. (McGonagall looked royally pissed, but kept her composure as she sat down next to Lupin.)  
  
Rough detention, Minerva? Snape inquired, an eyebrow raised.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him across the table. Tell me, Severus, _why_ must your house be the most uncooperative group of children in the school?  
  
Draco smirked. Because, Professor, we're all thought to be evil little prats anyway, we might as well _earn_ the prejudice.  
  
She turned her steely gaze on the blond and smiled thinly. Why thank you for the explanation, Mr. Malfoy, she said primly. I shall keep that in mind the next time I hold Slytherins in detention.  
  
Snape smirked. Minerva, I could ask many questions about your - ahem - wonderful house, but we could be here all night and I'm positive Albus would like to start the meeting.  
  
_And the fact that you're a tad bit outnumbered_, Draco thought idly as he scanned the table for any other non-Gryffindors.  
  
Thank you, Severus, Dumbledore nodded. Although the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry is one of the more amusing events to watch, I'm afraid we must start. Alastor?  
  
Moody turned his magical eye on Draco. Malfoy, you are going home for the holidays, correct?  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
The Auror nodded. Good. Then it is time for you to prove yourself trustworthy and do the task you joined to do. Voldemort has had little to no activity recently, from what our sources reveal. We don't have the faintest idea where he is hiding, what he is doing, or is planning on doing. Severus here hasn't been privy to much information lately because he upset Voldemort, he said. Snape stared emotionlessly at the table. Draco didn't want to imagine the torture his Head of House must have had to endure by displeasing the Dark Lord. It was a miracle he was still alive.  
  
So you want me to get some dirt on Voldemort's plans and whereabouts?  
  
Moody rolled his magical eye at Draco's phrasing and Dumbledore nodded somberly. Yes. But, please, do be careful, Draco. There is a very high risk of you being caught, he warned. If you feel you are in any danger, even the slightest amount, immediately return to Hogwarts.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
Draco, a few guidelines that reduce the chance of being suspicious, Snape began. 1: Never seem too eager for information. Just wait for them to inform you. 2: Do not ask a lot of questions. What they think you should know, they will tell you, and that is what you tell us. Which leads me to number 3: Never go sneaking around for what they don't tell you. That is highly dangerous, for if they catch you spying, that is the end, he said seriously. Do I make myself clear? he asked in his most menacing tone.  
  
_Clear as glass._ Yes, sir. _But it still doesn't mean I'll listen.  
  
_Don't send any information you obtain by owl, Draco, Lupin chimed in. You never know who might intercept it. I also wouldn't suggest fire talking unless you are completely alone.  
  
I wouldn't suggest it at all, Mr. Weasley spoke up. If a person were suspicious enough, he/she could request from the Ministry a record of the fire talking to and from their home.  
  
Draco frowned and stared at all of them. Then _how_ am I supposed to tell you what I hear? Smoke signals?  
  
Bill Weasley grinned. Nope, you just wait until you get back. Good idea though, he chuckled.  
  
Draco looked around helplessly. But what if it's really important? What if it _can't_ wait?  
  
Then floo into Hogsmeade and walk to Hogwarts, Snape snapped. The staff will still be here. Otherwise, work on your patience level and wait.  
  
Draco glared and leaned back in his seat.   
  
And you will do the same if you feel you are in any sort of danger, correct? Dumbledore asked, eying him sternly.  
  
Draco looked down at his hands and hesitated before nodding. He knew it was the smart thing to do, but it would mean leaving his mother in a terrible situation with that monster. He didn't think he could do that to her...  
  
a soft voice said next to him, you **really** have to promise that you'll leave as soon as you smell trouble. Otherwise, we won't let you go home.  
  
His gaze lifted to meet Tonks' blue eyes. He looked insulted.  
  
You can't do that!  
  
We will if we have ter, Malfoy. Yeh'll be in more danger if yeh can't promise ter leave. Yeh won't be much help ter us if yer dead.  
  
Draco glared at Hagrid even though he knew he was right. He found that the half-giant's feelings were reflected in every other person's eyes.  
  
Draco, you promised your mother you would, Snape said. That's the only reason she consented.  
  
I know! he cried. That's the thing, he sighed. She will...I mean, I...him..he trailed off.  
  
Then we will persuade her to leave also, Dumbledore assured him gently. The boy visibly relaxed. As long as you remove yourself first; you will be in more imminent danger than she.  
  
Draco nodded. Okay. I truly promise I will.  
  
Tonks smiled. Thank Merlin. You are stubborn, you know that?  
  
He grinned back. Nah. Just firm in my beliefs.  
  
Which translates to stubborn, Tonks laughed. Now, head back down to the dungeons and get some sleep, kiddo. You still have classes for the next two days.  
  
Draco's jaw dropped. I have to leave _already_?  
  
Yes, Draco, Remus chuckled. You can't stay for the whole meeting since you're not an official member. When you join us alone, we just discuss what you've learned and then you have to leave.  
  
Tonks apologized. But don't feel bad; it's just confidential stuff you don't need to worry your blond head about. Just concentrate on what you have to do.  
  
Draco shook his head as he stood up. he muttered, but whatever. I suppose I understand.  
  
Tonks grinned. Have a Happy Christmas, Draco.  
  
He smiled. You too Tonks. Happy Christmas everyone, he smiled as he walked toward the door. He received a few well wishes in return. He glanced at his watch and abruptly whirled around again.  
  
Professor Snape? What do I tell anyone in the Common Room if they ask why I'm back already? I mean, my Advanced Potions lesson shouldn't end in under forty five minutes.  
  
Tell them a certain Potions Master blew up the lab.  
  
Oy! McGonagall was _still_ pissed off about her earlier detention with the Slytherins.  
  
Snape said icily. Tell them that everyone's favorite Transfiguration teacher decided to transfigure all the Potions ingredients into cat food.  
  
Draco locked eyes with an amused Dumbledore. Err, nevermind. Forget I asked. I'll manage on my own.  
  
  
  
Early Saturday morning, Draco was eating breakfast half-asleep when an owl dropped a package in his lap. The sudden weight on his groin woke him up immediately. The package, a medium sized box Draco presumed from the shape, was quite heavy. Draco confused. Why would his mother send him a Christmas present three days before Christmas and with such an ordinary owl? Upon reading the accompanying note, Draco realized the box wasn't from his mother, nor was it a gift. In small messy handwriting, the note read:  
  
_I figured you might need this more than I do for the holidays. But don't get attached - I want it back in good condition. Good luck, and practice your charm!_  
  
Draco blinked. What the hell? he whispered. His fellow housemates were too wrapped up in eating and bragging about their holiday plans to notice the bewildered blond.  
  
He reread the note. _I might need what? Good luck? What charm?_  
  
He looked around him to ensure that everyone was still too occupied to pay attention to him and his strange package. Using a spell, he unsealed the box easily and lifted one of the small flaps. The box was filled with something silvery and shimmery. He untucked another flap and reached his hand in. It had a liquidy feeling...but yet was cloth. Draco's eyes widened and his mouth formed a small gape.  
  
An Invisibility Cloak.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
Once he ended his impersonation of a fish, Draco's mind reeled. Who the hell had lent him an Invisibility Cloak? He didn't even know of anyone who owned one. Well, except for...  
  
His head shot up and his eyes scanned the Gryffindor table until they met green. Harry raised an eyebrow in question. Draco fingered the soft cloth and grinned back in thanks. Harry nodded and joined in his friends' conversation.  
  
_Never go sneaking around for what they don't tell you._  
  
Hah. Yeah right.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Oh boy, what's Draco gonna get himself into??  
  
***Coming August 6th: Draco goes home for Christmas...meets some more family he's never met before...becomes the next James Bond...and finds an interesting way to contact the Order...***  
  
Hehehe. Please **REVIEW**! Or you won't be invited to my 200th Review Party......  
  
  
  



	15. Spy Kid

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Happy 27th Birthday to NSYNC's JC Chasez!!! (His single hits the radio on August 11th, so listen up!!) Yes, I know this was supposed to be up two days ago. But the weather has been so bad here, I've been afraid to put the computer on, lol. I swear, I cannot wait to see the blazing Arizona sun when I go on vacation. I'm sick of rain and lightning and thunder...Did anyone watch that new show on Fox, The OC'? I thought it was awesome. Maybe it's me, but doesn't Ryan remind you of Draco a little bit? Apart from the fact that they're both hot, they're the misunderstood badasses that you love to love. ::sigh::  
  
**Faith Maguire:** I don't write it in the story, but if you want to, you can imagine Draco in leather pants. Nice mental image, eh? :) Thanks for the review.  
  
**treachery89:** Happy Belated Birthday!! Hope it was a good one, and thank you for the review!!  
  
**Miko-Chan3:** You're welcome!! I feel honored that this is your fave story. I felt so bad when I got your review and you said you couldn't wait for the 6th, and I hadn't updated. So this chapter was typed up with you in mind :)  
  
**To everyone else who reviewed:** You are amazing!!! I love you all. Haven't decided when my 200th review party will be; I'll let ya know once you shoot me past that. LoL  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 14: Spy Kid**  
  
  
  
Draco knew something unusual was going on the moment he stepped off the Hogwarts Express. His father hadn't come to pick him up himself like he normally did to look like caring father. Instead, Draco found a man dressed in an expensive suit holding a sign with his name printed upon it. When the man saw Draco approaching, he pulled a portkey (a gleaming gold galleon) from his pocket. Ten seconds later, the blond and his belongings appeared in the foyer of Malfoy Manor. The sight that greeted him as he searched for signs of life was not one he had the chance to view in recent years. The normally cold dreary antique atmosphere of the Manor was now being replaced with expensive gaudy furnishings. Lacy curtains, oriental rugs, and diamond everything adorned each room as Draco passed by. The only time the Manor was dressed up like this was for Lucius' annual holiday party for the Ministry that he held a week before Christmas. Had the party been postponed? House elves scurried about, cleaning and decorating, and Draco stopped one to order that his trunk be carried to his room. Among the hustle and bustle, the clicking of heels on the marble floor echoed until Narcissa Malfoy appeared.  
  
she cried, a smile lighting her face as she swept toward him.  
  
Hello Mum, Draco smiled as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.  
  
How are you, sweetheart?  
  
Before Draco could reply, a cold voice entered the conversation.  
  
Narcissa, please. He is a sixteen year old boy. There is no need for pet names. And get away from him. Affection is not appropriate.  
  
Narcissa slowly stepped away from Draco as she nodded curtly at her husband. I apologize, Lucius.  
  
Draco slightly glared at the man, but he ignored his son and continued. Yes, I am sure. Now go make sure that the house elves have the correct menu for tomorrow.  
  
She nodded and disappeared down the hall. When nothing but a faint tapping of her heels could be heard, Lucius addressed his son.  
  
Your aunt and uncle will be visiting and joining us for dinner tomorrow. I expect you to be on your best behavior, no matter how pathetic that is. I swear, I will beat you to a bloody pulp if you make a fool of me.  
  
Draco's confusion peaked but he remained impassive. Aunt and uncle? There was no way in hell Lucius would allow Andromeda and her muggle husband in his house. That was absurd. Unless he hadn't meant them. Oh no...  
  
And make sure you show your loyalty. Bellatrix and Donovan are staunch followers of our Lord. They are among his best and most loyal Death Eaters, like myself. So you better behave.  
  
Draco nodded absentmindedly. The Lestranges were going to be in his house the next day. He would spend the evening with criminal fugitives. No amount of money or power would save his father if the Ministry found out. And the Order. Should Draco do something, somehow contact them? _No_, he decided, _I'll be able to learn a lot of information from the Lestranges._ Tonks' face popped into his head, the expression at the mere mention of Bellatrix's name. The blatant hatred, vengeance...A strong hand roughly gripped his upper arm.  
  
Do you understand? his father hissed in his face.  
  
Draco nodded again, albeit meekly, and said, Yes Father.  
  
Lucius let go and stood up straight again. You better. Now go up to your room where you will find a brand new, and very expensive, dress robe. The tailor is here, so put it on so he can fit it for you.  
  
The rest of the evening and next day was spent preparing for the Lestranges' arrival. Draco didn't see the need. Up until a couple of months ago, the pair had spent over fifteen years in a dingy cell in Azkaban; even a shack would have looked welcoming after that experience. He supposed Lucius was just trying to show off. When Voldemort had returned two years ago, Bellatrix and Donovan were highly esteemed by the Dark Lord because they had gone to Azkaban for him, while Lucius was scorned for denying his loyalty. This had not sat well with the elder Malfoy, but eventually he regained his high position amongst the Death Eaters. Draco rolled his eyes as he added more gel to his blond hair. When he was finished, he sat on his bed until his father sent for him.  
  
So far, he had only been hit once; across the face after the tailor had left for being impatient while the man had been marking measurements. The same impatience that now paced him across his floor in boredom. His aunt and uncle were expected between three and four, and he would be called as soon as they arrived. Draco couldn't sit still that long. As he passed his trunk, he stopped. He checked that the door was locked and then bent over the trunk. The house elves had unpacked everything for him. _Except for one compartment_, he smirked. The one they don't know exists. After accidentally reading a Muggle book in his second year, Draco had gotten the idea to build a secret compartment at the bottom of his trunk that only he knew how to open. After researching a few charms, he installed the compartment. He used it to conceal his sketchpad and pencils while at school, since such items could ruin his reputation if seen. Now though, he lifted the thin board on the bottom of his trunk to reveal a small rectangular cavity in which something soft and shiny laid atop his sketchpad. With Harry's Invisibility Cloak in hand, he moved in front of his mirror. He wrapped it around his body to find that his head now floated by itself in midair.  
  
he murmured at his invisible body. It was strange to look in the mirror and see the bed where his stomach should be. He quickly yanked it off when a knock disturbed his awe.  
  
One moment! he called as he stuffed the cloak back in its secret cubby until he needed it. He opened his door to find a gangly looking house elf.  
  
  
  
Sir, Miffy is here to tell Young Master Malfoy that he is requested downstairs, sir. The guests are here, sir.  
  
Draco nodded in dismissal and glanced one last time at his reflection. Sighing, he exited his room. _It's showtime_, he thought grimly.  
  
  
As Draco elegantly ate his potatoes, he concluded that the Lestranges were creepy. Both may have been gone from Azkaban for a while now, but their eyes still held a gaunt hollowness. Bellatrix, who Draco thought was at one point quite beautiful, resembled the Muggle portrayal of a witch. Her once silky midnight black hair was stringy, as if no amount of hair care products could reverse it back to what it once was after all those years in prison. She was very thin like his mother, but instead of looking ladylike and delicate like Narcissa, she was disgustingly bony and her pale white skin hung on her bones. She was dressed in simple velvet black robes and sat rigidly in her seat. Her voice, however, contrasted with her gothic appearance. It sounded light and feminine but was laced with uncanny evil. The combination made Draco shiver.  
  
I cannot believe Dumbledore and that Potter think they will be able to stop us. An old man and a little boy against our Lord? Fools, she spat as she sipped lavish wine from the diamond encrusted glass in front of her.  
  
Oh yes, Lucius drawled. I've always told my wife and son that Dumbledore was the worst thing to ever happen to that school.  
  
Narcissa dabbed at her lips with her napkin before speaking. Honestly, the man has no respect. It's enough of a disgrace that he allows mudbloods to attend the school, let alone be treated as an equal with _my_ son, she said, feigning disgust. Draco was the only one who knew she was faking, but the others bought her act. _Go Mum!_  
  
I couldn't agree with you more, Narcissa, Donovan spoke. Like his wife, he was very gothic in appearance. He was tall with broad hunched shoulders. His hair was also dark, streaked with gray, and his skin was ashen colored. He rarely smiled, and Draco was glad, because his teeth were crooked and yellow. His voice was very deep and rough, and occasionally sounded monotone.  
  
And who the hell does Potter think he is? He tried to put the Cruciatus Curse on _me_, she said with a harsh laugh. Of course, it didn't work, she smiled superiorly.  
  
Draco blinked into his glass of wine. _Harry Potter_ tried to do the Cruciatus Curse on a Death Eater? He marveled silently to himself. What the hell had she _done_? He set his glass back down on the table. _Strange_, he thought. _She must have done something terrible to him. Maybe that's why Tonks hates her; she tried to hurt Harry, or perhaps another of the Golden Trio.  
_  
Ah, don't worry about Potter, Bellatrix. He always tried to play the hero and save the day. It's his weakness, as we all know, Lucius smirked. And someday that will be his downfall. And our Lord's triumphant repossession of his rightful throne.  
  
Here, here, Donovan toasted, raising his glass. Along with the others, Draco followed suit with his glass, trying desperately to comprehend what they were saying, but their comments were so evasive. He needed to find an entrance into the conversation, and fast.  
  
I think he's trying to do it again, the stupid git, he spoke up casually. All four adults turned their attention to him.  
  
Do what, Draco? Lucius asked impatiently.  
  
You know, be the hero and save the day, Draco said. He really had no clue where he was going with this; it had been the first idea that popped into his head. Shit, he thought, I'm going to look suspiciously stupid if I can't come up with something.  
  
How so? his aunt inquired curiously.  
  
_Shit, shit, shit_, Draco chanted in his head as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. _The Order's going to kill me. Wait a minute, the Order_....  
  
I think he is part of some defensive group, he said, folding his napkin, I heard him, Weasley, and the mudblood talking in the library. They were sitting in a secluded corner and were speaking in hushed voices, he lied smoothly. I caught bits and pieces of their conversation. They said, he paused and lowered his voice, hopefully not too dramatically, they said our Lord's name.  
  
Oh, the disrespectful little brats, Bellatrix hissed.  
  
What else did they say? Donovan voiced the question that was on everyone's mind. Draco was pleased to see that even his father seemed eager to learn what was said. Right, now what _was_ said...  
  
I heard something about a meeting, Draco said, thinking quickly, defense tactics, some kind of dueling practices, and they mentioned Dumbledore a few times, he finished.  
  
The three Death Eaters glanced uneasily between each other, while Narcissa stared at her son. The sneaky little slimeball...she couldn't have loved him more at the moment.  
  
And you think that this is a group against our Lord? Bellatrix questioned.  
  
Draco shrugged. I would assume so. We don't have any extracurricular clubs in school for them to attend meetings for, and everything else that I was able to hear led to that conclusion.  
  
It sounds exactly like the one Potter started last year.  
  
Draco looked at his doubtful father, who, he hated to admit, was right. He thought quick. Yes, it does, he said firmly, Except I think this one is more official and Dumbledore's probably actually involved. He has to be, with the amount of times they mentioned his name.  
  
Lucius nodded slowly, processing the information. Draco waited nervously, heart pumping furiously in his chest, but his face remained calm. He half-expected his father to say something that would prove his story false and blow his cover, but instead the blond man turned to his fellow Death Eaters.  
  
Rather interesting, don't you think? He raised an eyebrow. They are persistent, I'll give them that. Stupid, but persistent. To think they still believe they will defeat the Dark Lord, how ludicrous.  
  
Donovan's mouth twisted into what Draco assumed was supposed to be an evil smile. Let them think that, Lucius. It's not possible after this week.  
  
Draco's ears perked up. He knew there had been a reason the Lestranges were visiting other than to share a nice family dinner. Voldemort was plotting something.  
  
He looked between the Death Eaters before asking, Why? _I_ didn't think it was ever possible.  
  
Donovan's smile' widened and Bellatrix's thin lips also curved. Even Lucius slightly beamed. Draco on the other hand, felt sick at how much he sounded like his father.  
  
We're taking a business trip for the Lord, Bellatrix informed him. Only a few of us are going, so unfortunately you cannot accompany us. But with your loyalty, you could probably come on one of the next ones.  
  
Draco smiled in what he hoped was eagerness, and not sarcasm.  
  
Keep eavesdropping on Potter and his little friends, Draco. Find out as much as you can. The information is invaluable to the Lord, Donovan urged.   
  
Draco nodded. _I'll eavesdrop all right_, he smirked inwardly. _Just not on Potter._  
  
We could probably tell Snape to snoop around Dumbledore a bit, Lestrange said turning to Bellatrix and Lucius. That might put him back in good graces with our Lord.  
  
Yes, it might, Lucius said simply. He shot his wife a pointed look. She stood up gracefully.  
  
Well, I am glad that both of you are finally out of that awful prison. Unfortunately, Draco and I must get up to bed now, as I'm sure you three have business matters to discuss before your early departure in the morning, she said. It was a pleasure to have you here for dinner; you are welcome any time you need a place to stay. She walked around to her sister and took her hands. Bella, dear, it's good to have you back. Take care, you hear?  
  
Draco caught a glimpse of the beauty Bellatrix had once possessed as a small genuine smile graced her lips.  
  
I will, Narcissa, do not worry.  
  
You too, Donovan, she said as she and Draco neared the dining room exit. Her brother-in-law nodded. And Lucius, I don't think I need to remind you, do I?  
  
Lucius smiled a fake, cold smile. Of course not. I will be fine. Good-night, love.  
  
Draco's blood curdled at the pet name. What an arrogant, hypocritic bastard. Instead of voicing _that_ pet name, he opted for, Nice meeting you, Aunt Bellatrix, Uncle Donovan. Good-night, and good luck on your trip.  
  
They all nodded and as Draco left the room he heard his father speak.  
  
Shall we take our tea in the parlor? Then we can discuss a few details before we turn in for the night.  
  
Draco only smiled.  
  
  
Ten minutes later, Draco was seated uncomfortably on his parlor floor behind a sofa under Harry's cloak. His father was sitting regally in an armchair while Bellatrix and Lestrange each occupied a sofa. All three had steaming cups of tea in their hands and, at the moment, Draco was the subject of their conversation. The Lestranges were very impressed with his loyalty and information'.  
  
He's going to accelerate rank very quickly, you should be proud, Lucius, Donovan said.  
  
Hmm, I suppose. What can I say? I taught him well.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and stifled a snort.  
  
Okay, boys, let's get down to business, Bellatrix ordered. Let's go over the plan detail by detail.  
  
_Yessss_, Draco cheered in his head. _Jackpot!_  
  
We, along with Nott and Avery, apparate into Bloomsboro, Germany tomorrow at 5:00 a.m. and stay at Turner's place.  
  
_Jack Turner was an English Death Eater that fled from Aurors a few days after Voldemort's fall_, Draco remembered. He always wondered where the man had ended up.  
  
Then, for the next week, we gather the old German gang to increase our numbers.  
  
We just have to convince Heinrich, Bulthaupt, Hochsteader, and Remlich. Once they're by our sides again, the rest won't be a problem. We scare the others into coming back and kill those who refuse, Donovan snickered.  
  
Bellatrix confirmed. Once that's done, the Lord wants to attack the French Ministry of Magic on January 1st at 9:00. We leave after two hours of invasion. The Lord only wants to give the world a reminder of what he is capable of doing.  
  
The world will be devastated. How sad, Lucius remarked without a trace of sympathy in his voice.  
  
Draco sat paralyzed. An attack on New Year's Day? He was going to have to contact the Order; he returned to school on January fifth. He would be too late.  
  
They have the weakest defense, especially without the aid of the British, German, and Spanish. It also helps that it's New Year's Day; they will be too busy celebrating. We'll shock them, seeing as they have no advanced warning, Bellatrix continued.  
  
_That's what you think_, Draco thought smugly.  
  
Donovan chuckled heartlessly deep in his throat. Then we return to hiding and lie low until the Dark Lord unveils his next plan. It's perfect.  
  
I think he will go after Potter again. Better to get him out the way now then later, Bellatrix commented.  
  
I agree, Lucius said. The boy has been lucky to be alive for the last 15 years; I cannot wait to see the Lord finally get rid of him.  
  
Mmm. He would have succeeded last year had Dumbledore and his crew not shown up, Donovan stated.  
  
Draco had not been told much about the battle down in the Department of Mysteries that occurred last spring; just that it had not gone as Voldemort expected.  
  
The sound of china being placed on glass was heard as the person sitting on the couch Draco was leaning against stood up.  
  
Oh, Lucius, that reminds me. You have to see the item I found in my cousin's pocket after I killed him. Donovan and I find it hysterical.  
  
Bellatrix killed someone recently? Her cousin no less? Draco knew that his father rarely went on raids since Voldemort's return. It was part of the Dark Lord's plan to keep a low profile. He suddenly heard his father's haughty laughter.  
  
_A mirror_? Of all things, a _mirror_? he asked in disbelief. I always knew Sirius Black was a vain bastard, but who knew how vain? What, was it supposed to protect him?  
  
The two men broke out in harsh laughter, but Bellatrix didn't.  
  
Did you hear that?  
  
Hear what? her husband asked.  
  
Bellatrix frowned. I swore I heard someone gasp.  
  
Draco's eyes widened and clapped his hand over his mouth. He hadn't meant for his gasp to be that loud, but he had been momentarily shocked. Sirius Black was _dead_? _Bellatrix_ had killed him? Why? Hadn't he been evil, killing all those people fifteen years ago? Weren't he and Bellatrix on the same side? Millions of questions swarmed his head as blood rushed loudly through his ears.  
  
I didn't hear anything, Lucius said.  
  
Draco let out a silent sigh.  
  
Are you sure? Bellatrix asked dubiously.  
  
_Yes!_ Draco silently shouted.  
  
Positive, Bella, Donovan said. Anyway, I refused to let her throw the mirror out until she showed you.  
  
Lucius must have been smirking. Thank you, that made my evening. Why don't I show you to your rooms since we have a busy week ahead of us?  
  
Lestrange said. We need our energy for this trip.  
  
Bellatrix made an affirmative noise in her throat as Draco heard her step around the couch. He held his breath as she peered suspiciously right at him before shaking her head.  
  
Yes, I must be tired, so sleep sounds like a good idea, she said.  
  
Of course, Lucius drawled. Why don't you leave the mirror on the table with our dirty teacups? A house elf is bound to take it. The stupid things like keeping our garbage.  
  
Yes and I'm sure the mirror is familiar with ugly faces anyway, Donovan sneered.  
  
As cold laughter and footsteps retreated down the hallway, a bodiless hand reached out and stole the mirror. Two seconds later, both hand and mirror vanished into thin air.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
No one seems to know what Lestrange's first name is - even the Harry Potter Lexicon doesn't know - so I just made it Donovan. It means Dark Warrior' in Gaelic. ::shrugs::  
  
Expect Chapter 15 sometime next week, I'm not sure when since I'll be busy getting ready for vacation. Here's what's gonna happen:  
  
***Draco spends a relaxing Christmas with his mother....finds out that the mirror isn't that ordinary...contacts Order members...and finally sees the shape his Patronus takes...***  
  
Please **REVIEW**. Brownie points to anyone who can spot the two Pirates of the Caribbean references. Answer coming in the next chapter. ^_~  
  
  
  
  
  



	16. Happy Christmas

**Disclaimer:** Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Here's the last chapter before I go on vacation, sorry about any mistakes, I was rushing to get this up. Thank you all for your reviews, now I can have the 200th review party!! Yay! Drinks for everyone! LOL  
  
I just finished this book called The Year Of The Hangman by Gary L. Blackwood, and the main character reminds me exactly of Draco. At first I thought it was just my psycho obsession with Draco, but Creighton Brown has the same personality. So weird.  
  
**PotC references:** There were actually 3 you could have come up with...I wasn't counting Bloomsboro cause I only used that after seeing Orli in a few scenes of Black Hawk Down..the other two were: Jack Turner - Jack Sparrow + Will Turner - most of you got that one, and the idea of the hidden bottom in Draco's trunk came from Elizabeth's hiding spot for the Aztec gold in her drawer.  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 15: Happy Christmas  
**  
  
  
As was tradition on Christmas Day, Draco woke early the next day (7:30) and headed downstairs to the living room. It was decorated in the fashion of most Christmas-celebrating families: an evergreen tree, stockings, presents, and a miniature train. Unlike most families, however, the Malfoy family had to have the best and most expensive of everything. The forest green stockings that hung from the fireplace were made from the finest silk and the names _Lucius_, _Narcissa_, and _Draco_ were embroidered on them in gold thread above hand-sewn, beaded holiday scenes. The Christmas tree stood at eighteen feet in the middle of the room, decorated with pure silver ornaments and Scottish candy canes, and lit by faeries caught in the woodlands of France. A stainless steel train track wound around the base of the tree, a steam powered locomotive bearing the name _Malfoy_ chugging merrily through tunnels, over bridges, and occasionally stopping at a miniature station in a snowy little town that was located to the right of the tree. A pile of silver wrapped presents sat to the left of the tree containing expensive items Narcissa and Draco were expected to flaunt in front of their friends.  
  
Draco smiled when he saw his mother sitting in her velvet armchair that was located in front to the tree and train. She had, like Draco, just woke up, but didn't look it at all in a mauve house robe with her hair simply pulled back. Draco hadn't even glanced in a mirror, unusual for him, for his hair was still mussed from sleep and he wore his gray silk pajamas. But his father wasn't there to reprimand him, so he couldn't care less.  
  
Good morning, Narcissa laughed as she ruffled his hair when he leaned down to hug her. I don't think I've seen your hair that messed up since the day you were born.  
  
Draco pretended to look insulted. It's _not_ messed up, Mother. I was _going_ for the bedhead look.  
  
Oh, sorry, didn't realize, Narcissa giggled.  
  
Draco laughed. It's okay. Happy Christmas, Mum.  
  
Happy Christmas to you too, Draco, she smiled.  
  
Two house elves entered the room carrying trays of that morning's breakfast. They placed two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, a pitcher of milk, a basket of freshly baked muffins, a plate of cinnamon buns, and a bowl of fruit on the mahogany coffee table along with napkins, silverware, plates, and glasses. The family usually ate a formal breakfast, all dressed up, in the dining room, but since Lucius wasn't present Narcissa decided to be a bit more casual. Draco preferred this way better but knew to savor it because it would never happen if his father was around. He and his mother filled plates with the breakfast goodies. Narcissa curled one leg under her body, placing her plate in her lap, while Draco reverted back to his childhood position of sitting Indian-legged on the floor and leaning against his mother's chair. Narcissa smiled.  
  
You used to sit like that every Christmas morning when you were little and unwrap each gift. Then you would climb into my lap and explain what it did tome before climbing back down for the next gift and climbing back up again, she laughed.  
  
Draco took a large bite of a gooey cinnamon bun. Erwy eckwercise.  
  
Narcissa handed him a glass of milk. He grinned and drank a few hasty gulps. he said once he could talk properly.  
  
He took another (much smaller) bite of cinnamon bun. Opening gifts was so much fun then, all I got were toys. All those things we're expected to brag about, he said nodding at the pile of gifts.  
  
Narcissa sighed. She wished she could bring her son back in time to his early years, when his harsh reality hadn't surfaced yet. Back when he was oblivious to the horrible emotions of pain, hate, and anger. She wished she could have had the courage to do something sooner to prevent him from those feelings, instead of allowing him to become involved with the danger he was now in. If anything terrible ever happened to him, she would never forgive herself.  
  
It's hard to believe you and Bellatrix Lestrange are sisters, Mum, Draco spoke up. You're nothing alike. You're beautiful, she's not. She's evil, you're not. Although, that was very convincing acting you did last night, he grinned.  
  
She half-smiled at the compliment. I don't need Bellatrix accusing me of being another Andy because I didn't act like muggleborns were scum. Your father would not have been pleased if I didn't fulfill our image of a true pureblood family.  
  
She didn't want to be accused of being another Andy was right; she wanted to _be_ another Andy. Just pack up her things, throw away all the pureblood beliefs she was supposed to have, and leave. But she could not and would not leave her son. Ever.  
  
I still think you should move in with your rebel cousins in France, you know, escape all this Pureblood crap. Or even Aunt Andy, she seems nice. I bet you could -  
  
A strawberry was snatched from Draco's plate and stuffed in his mouth. Narcissa kissed the side of his head. Why don't you finish your breakfast and open your presents, sweetie. Your father spent quite some time in Quality Quidditch Supplies.  
  
Even that was not able to stop the glare that shown on Draco's face as he chewed the sweet fruit. Why wouldn't his mother listen to him? He would be fine, now that he had the spy thing going on for Dumbledore. He is the only wizard Voldemort ever feared; Draco figured he was in good hands. Sighing, he finished breakfast and crawled over to the stack of gifts.  
  
His father had bought him a pair of suede shoes; another dress robe; a pair of rare eagle feather quills; three ink jars engraved with his initials and the Slytherin crest; the newest broom supply kit - complete with the glossiest wax, finest comb, most recently improved seat cushioning and brake tuning charms, and the latest version of _Handy Tips To Handling Your Racing Broom_ - all in a hand made leather pouch; new Quidditch gear (since his current set was already almost a year old); and a series of books on the Dark Arts. His mother gave him a few fiction books by his favorite wizarding author, Bernard Crunkershnoff, and a strange new type of paint from Aloyarc.  
  
It's for touch ups, she explained. You brush it on the painting where you want more color, where you made a mistake, or where a spot needs more definition, then say the color you want, and voila! The painting is improved.  
  
Draco eyed the product in his hand. Interesting. This will definitely help me. My sunrise painting is really screwed up. Thank you, Mum. Here's your gift.  
  
Narcissa unwrapped the gift to reveal a box from Simply Silver, a unique jewelry store in Hogsmeade.  
  
Oh, Draco, it's gorgeous, she breathed as she lifted a silver heart-shaped locket out of the box.  
  
Open it, Draco demanded.  
  
Opening the tiny locket, Narcissa peered inside. On the right side, a tiny picture of Draco and herself waved back up at her, while on the left side an inscription read: _I love you Mum_. Narcissa looked up at her son with tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
Thank you Draco; I love it. It's the most meaningful piece of jewelry I've ever received. Will you do the honors?  
  
Draco nodded and walked behind her chair to clasp the necklace around his mother's thin neck. He noticed a few faded bruises. _Stupid bastard_, he thought about his father. Pushing away anger for the sake of Christmas, he sat back down on the floor and fingered his new leather knee/shin guards.  
  
How is the Slytherin Quidditch team doing? Narcissa asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.  
  
Pretty well, actually. We only lost one game. But our scores from the other games were so high that we still have a pretty good chance of winning the Cup, he said.  
  
I'm surprised Slytherin lost. I've heard they have a great captain this year, she grinned slyly.  
  
Draco smirked. They do. The loss was to Gryffindor. _But_, I did catch the Snitch against Harry during a scrimmage, so they better watch out.  
  
Narcissa smiled at the lack of animosity in her son's voice when saying Harry Potter's name. Good for you, I'm proud. How are your studies?  
  
The ancient Grandfather clock in the hall chimed 9:00 as Draco launched into a description of his sixth year classes.  
  
  
A little while later, at about 9:30, most occupants of the Burrow were still sound asleep. The Weasleys preferred to share breakfast and gifts when everyone was fully conscious and in a jolly mood. Hence the reason no one was out of bed yet. One adolescent, however, was awake. And not too happy about it either.  
  
Ronald Weasley stared sleepily at the ceiling above him. The ghoul that resided in the attic clanked and banged on the pipes as its way of saying Happy Christmas'. This was not what stopped the red-head from entering dream land again though. The quilt-covered, mumbling lump in the bed that was situated five feet away from his own was responsible.  
  
Oy, Harry, Ron grumbled as he rolled over,of all early mornings to have nightmares, did you have to pick _Christmas_ morning?  
  
He wondered whether to wake his friend up, considering Harry's nightmares tended to be more unpleasant than most's. The selfish and grumpy part of him wanted to, just because Harry had, although involuntarily, woke him up. But the barely awake friend in him told him not to, since the boy didn't seem to be in any physical distress yet. He usually tossed and thrashed about in his bed until Ron or another Gryffindor shook him awake. So Ron just sighed and tried to sleep.  
  
After ten minutes of watching his best friend's form peacefully rise and fall, Ron thought that maybe for once, Harry was having a normal dream and normally talking in his sleep. No matter how comforting that was, _Ron_ was still bloody awake. Bored and cranky, he grabbed his wand and lazily banished shirts and socks at Harry. When he ran out of those and started to pelt the lump with magazines and books, it stirred.  
  
Bloody hell, Ron, came the groggy irritated voice of Harry Potter, why the hell are you chucking books at me?  
  
Cause it's a quarter to ten and I'm up.  
  
The blanket moved and the very disgruntled Boy-Who-Lived poked his head out as he groped the bedside table for his glasses. Once they were positioned atop his nose, he glared at Ron.  
  
Then why _are_ you up?  
  
Ron rolled his blue eyes. I woke at _9:00_ because of you. What was the nightmare about this time? Is - is You-Know-Who plotting something?  
  
Harry stared at his best mate. What in Merlin's name are you going on about, Ron? I didn't have any nightmares.  
  
You didn't? Ron asked, confused. Because I heard you mumbling. I couldn't make out exact words, but I definitely heard it. It sounded like - he paused as a garbled sound filled both their ears, that. It's coming from your side of the room.  
  
Harry climbed out of his bed. I think it's coming from my trunk.  
  
  
That's Severus for you. All Slytherins' savior, Narcissa laughed. Still, those poor Hufflepuffs.  
  
Draco shook his head. Nah. They deserved it.  
  
She smiled and glanced at the clock. Ten o'clock. I'm going to shower and get dressed. Then we can relax for the rest of the day before dinner if you want.  
  
Draco agreed.  
  
she said, standing. She ruffled his blond mop. Maybe you could fix the bedhead look, she grinned.  
  
Draco pouted as she left the room. It can't look _that_ bad, he muttered. He suddenly remembered the mirror he had confiscated last night that now resided in his pocket. Aha! Let's observe Draco's new style, he said to himself.  
  
But pulling out the mirror, the blond received a very big surprise. He did not see his reflection. All he saw was black, until objects were seen and _heard_ being shuffled around and a few patches of light flitted about.  
  
I just heard it again, keep going, a particularly familiar voice urged.  
  
I see nothing in here but clothes and Quidditch stuff, and last time I checked, they don't talk, another voice stated. Unless- no, that's impossible, the voice whispered.  
  
the first voice asked.  
  
The bottoms of a couple of fingers came into view. Draco watched, confused, as light permeated the mirror's viewing range and some sort of room was evident. Then the shocked faces of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley filled the mirror's surface.  
  
Potter?! Weasley?! Draco cried in disbelief, reverting to last names because of his shock.  
  
Malfoy?!? Go bloody figure that _you_ would be the one that woke me up, Ron complained.  
  
_What_ are you talking about? How could I wake you when you're there, and I'm here?  
  
The mirror, dumbarse. You must have said Harry's name and the two-way mirror activated in his trunk, and your talking woke me up.  
  
How the hell did you get that mirror, Malfoy? Harry interrupted their soon to be full fledged argument.  
  
Draco was taken aback by the cool tone and stony expression on Harry's face. I stole it from my aunt, who stole it from Sirius Black. What's it to you? Where'd you get yours? he asked suspiciously.  
  
Harry's face remained blank. Sirius gave it to me.  
  
Sirius _Black_? Draco asked incredulously.  
  
Harry nodded. Yes. It was a Christmas gift last year. He was my godfather.  
  
Draco's eyes widened as he stared down at the mirror. Your godfather? But he was evil.  
  
No he wasn't! both Harry and Ron exclaimed. Harry explained bits and pieces of Sirius' story to Draco. He didn't trust Draco entirely yet to explain about everything he had found out since his third year, but told him enough to understand. Draco was awed at how twisted the truth had become.  
  
Bloody hell, he breathed. I actually met Peter Pettigrew. A dumpy little bald man. He was at my... he trailed off. Err, what a traitor, he stated. _Kind of like me_, he thought. _How ironic.  
  
_ Ron agreed. Scumball. Pretended to be my rat. Arsehole. Hey, you said you stole the mirror from your aunt - who's your aunt? Not Tonks' mother, right?  
  
Nope, Bellatrix Lestrange, my mother's other sister, Draco answered. She took it after..after she -  
  
Harry hissed venomously. I hate her with all my might.  
  
I know the feeling, Draco muttered. Listen, Ron, your parents and brother are there, right?  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
I hate to ruin Christmas, but I need to speak with them and it can't wait until school starts again, he explained. It'll be too late, he said quietly.  
  
Ron glanced uneasily at Harry. I'll go get Bill. He's the least grumpy when he wakes up.  
  
You used the Invisibility Cloak? Harry asked once Ron was gone.  
  
Draco smirked. They had no idea I was in the room.  
  
  
  
Ron returned with a half-asleep Bill. This better be good, Malfoy, the older red-head grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. I don't appreciate being woke up so damn early.  
  
Neither do I. I was up at nine, Ron whined as Bill shooed them out of the room.  
  
Weasleys ain't morning people, eh? Draco teased.  
  
You have no idea! Harry called over his shoulder.  
  
  
A half an hour later, one Bill Weasley was wide awake.  
  
You're certain about all of that? You're sure they didn't know you were listening?  
  
I'm positive about the information. No, they didn't have a clue I was eavesdropping, Draco assured him. He didn't mention that at first he initiated the Death Eaters' conversation by sort of telling them about the Order. He didn't want anyone to be angry.  
  
Okay, good. I'll alert the rest of the Order and we'll try to warn the French.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
Thank you for contacting me. We might be able to put a dent in Voldemort's plans. Take care and have a Happy Christmas.  
  
Okay, you too. Bye, Draco said. He didn't know how to deactivate the mirror so he just gently set it down on the carpet.  
  
This spying for the Order thing was having quite an effect on Draco. He smiled more; it was strange. _We might be able to put a dent in Voldemort's plans_, Bill's words rang in his head. _Thanks to me_, he grinned. The best part of it was that no one on Voldemort's side would suspect it was him that ratted them out. He leaned back against the chair and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He merrily sent green and red sparks in the air. He also sent a few flames in the air while he was at it.  
  
Take that, Lucius, you evil bastard, Draco said out loud. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Maybe he would play a major role in bringing down Voldemort and his father. _Especially_ his father. Elated, he pointed his wand and concentrated.  
  
_Expecto patronum_.  
  
Unlike all previous attempts, the wisp of white smoke of the Patronus Charm curled into a shape. It wasn't very strong or bright, but the animal was clear. He smiled.  
  
A dragon. Very nice, a voice commented from the floor.  
  
Draco smirked down at Harry. Very nice indeed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
***Next chapter: Lucius comes home...Draco returns to school...and our friends learn how to _properly_ duel by everyone's favorite Potions Master and werewolf...***  
  
He he he, here's some more fun stuff for you before you **REVIEW** :)  
-Draco's favorite author shares initials with a famous children's author. Can you guess who?  
-Find the line from Fox's The OC' (great show, I highly recommend). They only played it on the commercials 2000 times....  
  
  
  
  



	17. Returns and Reflexes

**Disclaimer:** I am really getting tired of copying and pasting this thing, lol. But, tis necessary. So, everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, I own nothing but the plot (and any Slytherin Quidditch players I made up because I didn't know the real ones' names).  
  
**A/N:** Vacation was alright. I've seen enough rocks and desert to last me a life time. And it was wayyyy too hot. How do Arizonans and Utahans (the spell check said that's how you spell it, lol) live out there?? Las Vegas was cool though. As you probably can guess, this story won't be finished before school starts (2 days ::tear::). Oh well, look at it this way: it gives you something to look forward to after doing pointless homework :) And the reviews give me something to look forward to ::hint hint::  
  
**Fain Oakenbringer**: Nope, I haven't read The Wizard Of Earthsea, what's it about? Thanks for the review!!  
  
**Sinister Papaya Fondue**: I'm so glad you like this!! I know it started out cliche-ish, but not because I wasn't serious, but because I had no idea where I was going with it, lol. I just jumped head first into writing it, and didn't really plan much, lol. Thanks for the review!!  
  
**To all the rest of you wonderful people who review:** Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!  
  
**The Loozer **(haha, cool name!) was the only person to correctly guess the author with the initials BC: Beverly Cleary. Who doesn't love Ramona, and Socks, and Ralph S. Mouse.....  
  
*** indicates a flashback beginning and ending.  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 16: Returns and Reflexes **(R&R - like Read & Review!!)  
  
Pain. That's the only thing Draco felt as he limped along the corridor of the Hogwarts Express seeking Crabbe and Goyle on January fifth. Every muscle ached, it hurt to breathe, and every joint screamed in protest as he barged into compartments in search of the gorillas. He scowled and sneered at the students when he found no Crabbe and Goyle. At one point he burst into Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville's compartment, but just glared and left. He couldn't be bothered thinking of rude comments to fling at them - it would take too much energy, an entity he was lacking at the moment. Besides, he figured his jaw was probably broken, so he didn't want to overuse it.  
  
Needless to say, Lucius had apparated home early on January first in a maniacal rage. And so began Draco's four days in pure hell.  
  
***  
  
Draco was lounging on his bed, lazily tossing a snitch back and forth between his hands when the door banged open. He frowned; his mother was having tea with Mrs. Parkinson and he ordered the house elves to leave him alone. Shaking his head in disgust at the foolish creatures, he put the snitch down.  
  
I believe I said I was to be left alone, he said, irritated. This better be important, you stupid good-for-nothing -  
  
He was cut off by his bed curtains being yanked open and a sharp blow to the stomach. His eyes widened.  
  
he gasped. I thought - I thought you were a house elf coming to, gasp, bother me.  
  
Well you thought wrong, his father sneered. Get up.  
  
Draco hastened into a sitting position under his father's cold gaze.  
  
He looked up meekly. How did the business trip go?  
  
Lucius' expression heated in fury and rage, and only then did Draco notice the bloodshot color of his eyes. How did it go? HOW DID IT GO? IT WENT BLOODY FUCKING WRONG, THAT'S HOW IT WENT! AURORS WERE THERE, DRESSED AS FUCKING NORMAL PEOPLE, BLOODY _WAITING_ FOR US! WE HAD TO APPARATE IMMEDIATELY AND THE BLOODY AURORS CAUGHT TWO OF OUR MEN.  
  
Draco feigned a look of combined horror and outrage to cover the triumphant smile that tried to worm its way onto his face, all the while trying to quell the qualms of dread in his stomach. Under the influence of alcohol Lucius could manage his speech quite well, but had no control over his physical strength.  
  
What?!? How? From the way you, Aunt Bellatrix, and Uncle Donovan spoke, it was a foolproof plan!  
  
Of course it was, Lucius stated arrogantly. And no one knew of it except for those involved. He paused, drunkenly scratching his chin. Oh, and _you_.  
  
It took all of Draco's willpower not to widen his eyes in panic. Yes, I knew you were going on a business trip for the Lord, but had no details on the affair, he said calmly. His father seemed to register that fact, but still stared accusingly at his son.  
  
Draco inhaled deeply. Besides, even if I did, why would _I_ spoil our Lord's plan? I want him to gain his power back as much as _you_ do, he said, with a bit too much attitude once he realized that it was the alcohol talking, and not truly his father.  
  
Lucius continued staring at him - a cold, hard, calculating look - before punching him square in the jaw. Draco fell back on his bed in pain, certain his jaw had broken. Before his father could grab him, he hoisted his legs on top of the bed and flung himself over the opposite side from where his father stood. Unfortunately he didn't land on his feet, which cost him valuable running time, and his shoulder soon collided with his father's shoe. Draco felt himself being lifted and shoved into the closest wall.  
  
Don't speak to me in that tone bitch, his father's beer tinged breath hissed in his face. And don't you dare ever compare yourself to me. You are nothing compared to me, he said, closing his hands around Draco's neck. You hear that? You are nothing.  
  
Draco now remembered why he never struggled against Lucius, for it led to dangerous situations like this.  
  
Nothing but a worthless piece of shit. Mm-hm, yes.  
  
Draco gasped for breath.  
  
Yes, yes. That is what you are.  
  
Draco felt himself becoming lightheaded. He did the only things his quickly clouding mind could think of.  
  
You son of a bitch! Lucius croaked as he doubled over clutching his crotch. Draco sagged against the wall, greedily gulping in air. He should have made a mad dash for the door, but never had the chance.  
  
All he remembered after that was opening his eyes to find house elves administering to various wounds and bruises, and it wasn't the last time he would awake to that. Each day morphed into a repetition of the previous: Lucius would get drunk off his arse and insult and beat the crap out of Draco, who would then awake to the care of the house elves. Problem was, it was becoming more difficult for the house elves to tend to his injuries, seeing as they became progressively worse. Draco was flung into a glass cabinet, pushed down stairs, and had many objects hurled at him at top speeds - most of which he rarely had time to catch before they struck him. All in all, it was a terrible end to an otherwise peaceful Christmas break.  
  
***  
  
Draco wearily sank down into the plush seat of the Hogwarts Express. He had finally found Crabbe and Goyle in one of the last train compartments stuffing their faces with at least ten galleons worth of pastries and candies. He gave them a disgusted glare and they were smart enough to devour their food in silence. Not like they provided interesting conversation anyway.  
  
Draco sighed and closed his eyes. He should have expected his father's behavior. He should _always_ expect abusive behavior from his father - he didn't understand why he still felt a shock at the first punch or kick. Countless times, when he thought he had actually pleased his father enough not to be struck, he still received quite a beating. Lucius' behavior should be a normal routine for him, yet his brain just couldn't accept it. Maybe his heart just didn't want to.  
  
Whenever anything, especially a plan of Voldemort's, didn't run smoothly, Lucius targeted his anger at Draco or his mother. This time, Draco had been the victim. At least he had really done something, even if his father didn't know that. Nor would he ever find out. His mother never deserved it, at all, not ever.  
  
Draco shifted his position and winced. Lucius had been brutal. Not just physically, but verbally too. Draco tried to ignore the comments he had been dealt. He wished he could just pass it off as the alcohol, but the sad truth was, the remarks were meant whether Lucius was drunk or not. Draco tried to pushed them away and boost his confidence by telling himself he was the better person, he would come out on top, but the insults shouted louder than the words of comfort.  
  
_You're worthless...Nothing but a failure...You don't deserve the Malfoy name...You're a little piece of shit...A mistake from the beginning...You disgust me...You're nothing but a worthless failure...A worthless failure...A worthless failure...Worthless failure...Failure.......  
_  
Draco? Draco?  
  
he snapped at Crabbe.  
  
We're here.  
  
~~~  
  
A week later, Draco was steadily getting better. Now that he was back at school with Snape's potion supplies in easy reach, he was able to brew antidotes and balms for his sores and bruises. At the Manor, he didn't have time in between being beat and unconscious.  
  
One night he was awake brewing a Strengthening Potion (so he wouldn't collapse in the middle of a class), a Bruisewort Balm (to keep the swelling of all bruises to a minimum), an Anti-Ache Potion (a pain reliever), and his usual Concealment Potion since he was running low. While the various potions simmered, boiled, and bubbled, Draco leafed through his potions book. He thought a Wakeful Potion might be useful, because although the Strengthening Potion rejuvenated his energy, it didn't battle mental exhaustion. Checking the ingredients, he realized he needed crushed boar tusk, an ingredient the students weren't required to purchase. Sighing, the blond slowly stood up and prepared to raid Snape's cabinet.  
  
He wished he still had Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Earlier that week, he had send his owl to Gryffindor Tower late at night with a package containing the cloak and a note of thanks. Harry had nodded at him during Care of Magical Creatures to indicate he'd received the garment.  
  
As he tramped down the corridor leading to Snape's classroom, he silently scoffed at all non-Slytherin students. He had overheard those who were daring enough to sneak around after hours saying that once Filch's cat saw you, you were a goner. Draco smirked; Slytherins never had that problem - Filch nor his damn cat rarely ventured into the dungeons. Approaching the correct classroom, he quietly said and headed directly to the potions cabinet.  
  
..essence of belladonna..bezoar..bicorn horn..Billywing stings..black beetle eyes..poisonous yellow beetle eyes..boomslang skin..bubotubor pus...where the hell is it?  
  
Draco quickly skimmed the other shelves in the cabinet in case some stupid student never learned to alphabetize. No such luck. Draco cursed under his breath and crept over to the other cabinet in the room. This one contained potions or ingredients the students never dealt with themselves but Professor Snape kept for explanation and display purposes. There was an ordinary muggle combination lock on the cabinet, but Draco was no fool - it was only there to intimidate thieves. But Draco didn't consider himself a thief - in his mind, he believed he had a justifiable reason to be borrowing potions ingredients, of which, he grimaced, Snape had seen proof of. He whispered the old unlocking spell, , and watched as the combination undid itself. He chuckled. Snape wasn't going to be able to keep _him_ out of his cabinets.  
  
he murmured to himself as he read all the labels in search of boar tusk.  
  
Here we go. Well, we have: Boar Tusk (Fine), Boar Tusk (Liquidated), or Boar Tusk (Crushed). Perfect, already crushed, he whispered to himself. Taking a vial out of his robe pocket, he carefully poured the necessary amount of crushed boar tusk and then cleaned up. On his way out, he repocketed the vial and slipped noiselessly out of the classroom to return to his laboratory'. He failed to notice the looming figure hiding in the shadows of the classroom.  
  
  
The combination of the potions restored the blond to the Draco Malfoy everyone knew and hated. He insulted Gryffindors with new vigor, bullied Hufflepuffs with renewed energy, scorned Ravenclaws with more spite, and acted like the miniature Lucius that people saw him as. The comparison angered him as much as it had angered his drunk father days ago, but for entirely different reasons. Draco wanted nothing to do with the man, not after the pain he endured on behalf of him, and wanted nothing to be like him either. The sixteen year-old couldn't do anything but spy behind his father's back for the time being, but he knew that someday, the man would get what was coming to him. Someday, the man would feel as helpless as Draco did. And there would be nothing he could do about it.  
  
~~~  
  
Zabini, you, as Keeper, have to keep the bloody ball _out_ of the hoops, Draco yelled, irritated, at his teammate. Otherwise, we _lose_. And I refuse to lose to Hufflepuff of all teams. Oh, and Crabbe, Goyle you're bloody brick walls - hit the damn bludgers harder, he shouted. Looking down, he added, Nice speed, Pucey. Aim is great too. Just watch your passes - they're a bit slow.  
  
The fourth year floating below him, Adam Pucey (younger brother of Draco's former teammate Adrian), grinned and nodded.  
  
Now will the rest of you start playing the game?  
  
Kyle Cliffe, a fifth year Chaser, said, it's 20 degrees out, we're cold and tired, give us a freakin' break. Just because we don't have the energy you have all of a sudden, doesn't mean you should insult us. I mean, we've been practicing for two hours already. _Two hours_ in this weather.  
  
And we haven't eaten for three, Goyle added wistfully.  
  
Besides, it's only Hufflepuff, Malfoy. We're bound to win, Clarisse DuPont, a seventh year chaser, and one of the very few girls to ever make the Slytherin Quidditch team, reasoned.  
  
Draco glanced around at the rest of his team. They all had identical red-nosed glares directed at him. He threw his hands up.  
  
Oh, I bloody give up. Go in, you pansies. But I swear to Merlin, if the score is not sky high tomorrow, I will kill the lot of you, he called as he crossly dove toward the ground.  
  
Truth was, he too knew they would win. He just wanted to continue flying for as long as possible. The air whipping past his face at sixty miles per hour numbed him to the bone, and from any pain or anger he was feeling. The sensation of flying always made his burden feel lighter, if only for a few hours. He ushered the team inside once they landed.  
  
Go on, I'll clean up myself. Just get out of my face.  
  
His teammates shrugged and obeyed. No one liked to disagree or challenge a pissed Draco Malfoy.  
  
He caught the still whizzing around bludgers and snitch and, along with the Quaffle, placed each in their proper place and slammed the chest shut. He levitated the chest, extra broomsticks, and the other practice equipment and, throwing his own broom over his shoulder, trudged through the snow covered Quidditch pitch to the Slytherin locker room. Once he was finished he headed straight for his dormitory.  
  
He collapsed on top of his bed. Even he had to admit, it was cold out there. It took quite a few minutes for him to warm up. He could feel aches and pains seeping into his body as the Anti-Ache potion was starting to wear off. _Well_, he reasoned, _it **is** over twelve hours that I last took it_. _Hell_, _they should all be wearing off soon_. Exhaustion would be hitting him any time now.  
  
Instead of exhaustion, something else hit him.  
  
The dueling meeting! he gasped. Starts at 8:00!  
  
He rolled over to check his clock.  
  
Shit, I have to be there in three minutes.  
  
When he was younger, his father had hired a professional duelist to teach him how to correctly duel, but he still had to be at the meeting that night. The fastest getting ready Draco ever participated in ensued. He took a shower, threw on clothes, gulped down a bunch of potions, grabbed his wand, and shot out the door. He didn't even bother looking for a robe. He quietly snuck down to Snape's office and as soon as he stepped through the tap door, he sprinted toward the room where he and the Gryffindors would be instructed on how to properly duel by Snape and Lupin. All of that done in fifteen minutes flat.  
  
So, quite expectantly, the sight that hurtled through the door six seconds later shocked the room's occupants. Draco walked over and slumped into a seat next to Ron and began muttering spells. His shoes tied, the buttons on his shirt buttoned, his hair dried, and his belt buckled. He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling.  
  
he apologized. Quidditch ran late and then I sort of forgot about the meeting tonight.  
  
He heard someone snort and say something that sounded like some teacher'.  
  
Draco, you are the captain of Slytherin's team - thereby, you have the authority to end practice whenever you feel, and on meeting nights, I expect you to end it early enough so you will be able to arrive here on time, Snape berated.  
  
Draco lifted his head and nodded, well aware that Ron was grinning like a maniac at Draco being scolded. Yes sir.  
  
And these meetings are too important for you to sort of forget'. Show a little more responsibility, will you? Snape said as he turned to face all the students once again. Weasley, stop that foolish smiling. I'm sure you've seen something more amusing than Draco Malfoy getting reprimanded.  
  
Ron dropped the smile and glared at Snape, joined by Draco.  
  
I _know_ they're important, sir. I was just tired, that's all, he lied not wanting to go into detail about the team's practice that day.  
  
Snape stared incredulously at Draco and raised a greasy eyebrow. _Were_ you? he asked rhetorically.  
  
Draco blinked. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Snape worsened his already bad mood. Snape could be a real Jekyll and Hyde at times. Sometimes he seemed like he really wanted to help Draco and sometimes he just liked to be a pain in the arse. Draco shook his head and focused on what Remus was saying.  
  
Like Severus said before, sharp reflexes play a key role in dueling. Tonight that's all we'll be working on. We'll pair you up, and you and your partner will just practice hitting each other with simple charms and hexes. Just don't use the Disarming Spell, as it will defeat the purpose of this exercise. Try to be as quick as possible with a hex after you get hit. After about twenty minutes, you'll switch partners.  
  
Each pair was to be sent to separate corners in the room so no one would get hit unexpectedly by spells that went awry. As luck would have it, Draco was partnered with his favorite Weasley first. The two glared at each other and Ron smirked.  
  
Now, I can repay you for waking me so damn early on Christmas morning. And I _can't_ get detention for it.  
  
Draco grinned. I suppose you could _try_.  
  
Immediately after the words left his mouth, he was hit with the Jelly-Legs Jinx. He retaliated by sending the Pepper Breath Hex Ron's way. Although Ron's eyes watered tremendously from the hot taste in his mouth, he managed to point his wand and croak a spell, and then Draco was sending hexes from the floor where he was laughing hysterically from the Tickling Charm. By the time Snape yelled , Ron was covered in fur and his knees were reversed, while Draco's teeth were enlarged and he was still laughing. Snape ordered everyone to undo their hexing.  
  
_Finite incantatum_, Ron muttered and Draco finally stopped laughing and his teeth returned to normal size.  
  
My stomach, he moaned and then removed all of his hexes on Ron. He had to admit, the red head already had good reflexes - the two had shot spells at each other quite steadily - he just needed to learn more spells. He glanced around at the other two pairs. Hermione was demanding that Fred, who had leeks spilling out of blue ears, undo his charm, seeing as she was wearing a skirt for Merlin's sake!!. He only continued to laugh at her predicament. Finally Lupin released her from the Hover Charm. In another corner, George was covered in bright purple boils and had scales, while a bright yellow canary sat where Harry should have been. George swished his wand at the bird and it transformed back into (a very pissed) Harry Potter.  
  
Draco teamed up with Musketeer number two next. She smiled sweetly before shooting golden bubbles out of her wand that obscured his vision. He blindly pointed his wand and hoped his Twitchy Ears Hex hit her. They battled on and at the end, Draco was firing hexes from the air where Hermione's Hover Charm had placed him. She had used a variety of spells, but her reflexes needed work.  
  
Draco smirked at his last partner for the night, whom he had a feeling would be his most challenging competitor. Harry grinned.  
  
This seems familiar.  
  
Draco chuckled. I think, for better practice, and, old time's sake, we should pretend we hate each other with a passion again and just enjoy hexing the crap out of each other.  
  
The Gryffindor thought about it. Sounds like fun, he smirked, _Malfoy_. No snakes this time though - or I'll sic it on you.  
  
You're on Potter.  
  
And with that, a string of hexes passed between the two. About half-way through, they even journeyed out of their corner's boundaries in attempts to duck the oncoming spells. A hairy Fred, long-nailed Ron, bald George, and hiccuping Hermione all stopped their own hexing to watch the now pink-haired Harry and pig-noised Draco's moving battle. Snape and Lupin didn't even try to cease the duel, for they too were watching in interest. It was like a sword fight, and neither was willing to back down.  
  
  
  
Harry's legs danced on their own accord and he wobbled into Remus.  
  
  
  
Fiery sparks blinded Draco as he ducked around Fred.  
  
  
  
Hearty laughs escaped Harry's mouth as he tried to still his legs and clutch his stomach.  
  
_Locomotor mortis!_  
  
Draco's legs locked together and he hopped backwards in order to move.  
  
  
  
  
  
_Everti Stratum!_  
  
The hexing finally ended when a buck-toothed Harry was blasted into a wall and the grinning boil-covered Draco tripped and toppled backwards over a chair. Lupin chuckled at the boys, no sullen look was apparent on Snape's face, and Fred, George, Hermione, and Ron clapped. Both boys sat up from their landing positions, rubbing aching backs, hips, ribs, arms, shoulders, legs, and anything else that hurt at the moment.  
  
Bloody hell, they groaned simultaneously.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Hehehehehehehe, I love those two. I can't tell ya when the next chapter will be up, but I'll say sometime before my birthday (September 14) to be safe in case teachers decide to be assholes and load on the homework. But here's the preview:  
  
***Next chapter: More dueling...Snape tricks Draco...A confrontation about Draco's ploy to get the Death Eaters to speak...***  
  
  



	18. Trouble

**Disclaimer:** Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, I own nothing but the plot...and the Slytherin Quidditch players you've never heard of.  
  
**A/N:** I'm not bothering with excuses for the tardiness of this, so I'll say this: I'm not going to put a due date for each chapter anymore. It's not fair to me or the quality of the story to rush chapters; and it's not fair to you guys to tell you a chapter will be up and then be a week late with it. So this will be updated when it is. But rest assured, I WILL NOT go 3 months in between updates...I want to have this finished by November 3rd, a year after I started it, lol. If you want me to email you when I update the next chapter, just leave your email address and you will be notified once a new chapter is up.  
  
On a happier note, I am _finally _16. ::grins proudly:: Whoo hoo! Thanks to all who wished me a happy birthday. And of course to those who reviewed - **YOU ALL ROCK, I LOVE YOU!!!** 247 reviews, I really can't explain how exciting that is :)  
  
  
**  
  
The Pain Within  
Chapter 17: Trouble**  
  
  
  
The next morning Draco wished he hadn't told Harry to go full throttle on him. He was feeling the effects of dodging spells on top of his already aching body. His back was bruised from falling over that bloody chair and his thigh muscles were sore from having to hop around. _Oh well_, he thought as he laid out his Quidditch uniform for later that day. _I made the Anti-Ache Potion for a reason._ He got dressed in his school uniform just to eat breakfast before beginning his daily dosage of potions.  
  
He rubbed the smooth Bruisewart Balm on the new bruise on his back as well as the old ones. Then he watched them all disappear as he swallowed the Concealment Potion. Suddenly he felt alive as he quickly gulped down the thick Wakeful Potion. A tide of energy washed through his drained body at the intake of the Strengthening Potion. He picked up the vial of Anti-Ache Potion and his stomach dropped in horror at its weight.  
  
he mumbled. It's practically empty.  
  
Now what was he going to do? He would have just brewed more, but he used the last of his boomslang skin in Potions the other day. The trip to Hogsmeade wasn't until _after_ his Quidditch game and he needed the potion _before_ the game. He couldn't steal any of Snape's boomslang skin in broad daylight; he'd surely be caught. He brainstormed while he gelled his hair. A smirk formed on his lips. He may not be able to steal from Snape, but he could easily steal from another Slytherin. Of course, he could just ask someone, but where would the fun be in that? Besides, someone might be suspicious of why he needs it so urgently, and there was no way in hell he was going through the day without the potion.  
  
He set up his cauldron and measured his other ingredients. All he needed was a slab of sliced boomslang skin. He decided he could endure the dull ache of pain to eat breakfast and then pillage his housemates' rooms afterward.  
  
In the Great Hall, the Slytherin Quidditch team was already seated and chatting at the Slytherin table. On game mornings the players usually sat together to discuss game strategies and insult the other team. However, when Draco approached them, they instantaneously got quiet.  
  
Draco nonchalantly picked up a piece of toast and began buttering it as he observed his silent teammates. They ate quietly (except, of course, Crabbe and Goyle who were noisily scarfing down food like wild beasts) and didn't dare look at him. They obviously hadn't forgotten the previous night's practice, but, being Slytherins, weren't about to apologize for it. Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
Forget last night, alright?  
  
His team looked up at him.  
  
I know we'll win, it's practically guaranteed. I'm just worried about the score; we need a really high one in order to beat Gryffindor at the House Cup.  
  
The others looked relieved that it hadn't really been totally their fault he had gotten pissed the night before.  
  
We'll do our best, Adam promised and the others nodded in agreement.  
  
You better, Draco warned. I want you three, he motioned Adam, Clarisse, and Kyle, to score as many goals as you can. I'm not going to even attempt catching the Snitch until we're at least 150 points ahead. Unless, of course, Finch-Fletchly is going after it. I'll lead him on while you score the points. They nodded and Draco turned to the still eating gorillas.   
  
Crabbe, Goyle, you need to aim the bludgers in the general direction of Hufflepuff Chasers. Not directly _at_ them though, cause that will be fouls. Just in their direction, close enough to scare them so they'll lose concentration and drop the Quaffle. And stop eating, your brooms won't be able to lift you, he muttered in disgust. The two boys stared hungrily at the six slices of bacon left on their plates and mournfully chewed the four they had in their mouths.  
  
Draco turned to his remaining teammate. Blaise, just block whatever attempts are thrown at you. I'm certain there won't be much since Hufflepuff is quite intimidated by us, Draco chuckled. The seven Slytherins smirked.  
  
Oh, one more thing, Draco drawled, leaning in. Play our game, but **don't get caught**. Hooch watches us like a hawk. The amount of penalty shots we gave Gryffindor last time was our downfall. So be careful.  
  
Blaise scowled. Stupid Weasley. She got four shots past me. Bitch.  
  
Draco nodded. Yea, well, I doubt any of the Hufflepuff Chasers have the intelligence to fake you out like she did, so don't worry.  
  
Blaise shrugged, still unhappy about the memory.  
  
Draco helped himself to a few more breakfast items while Clarisse and Kyle began to diss the Hufflepuff Chasers, the others joining in at some points. Hufflepuffs became boring after a while, so the conversation expanded to include the other two house teams also. The insult session sadly enough boosted the team's morale and enthusiasm and Draco's six teammates left him to go get dressed and then fly around the pitch for a while to get accustomed to the weather. Draco declined to join them, saying he had some homework he needed to finish before the 11:00 game. The six, knowing Draco was a Prefect and that they had pissed him off enough the night before, didn't question him.  
  
Draco idly passed fifteen minutes away by picking at his food and buttering about nine slices of toast, eating only two. He wasn't that hungry, he just wanted to give enough time for his teammates to dress and leave the dorms. He figured he would swindle some of Crabbe's or Goyle's boomslang skin - both were too stupid to notice it was gone.  
  
He slowly walked down to the dungeons. Once inside the Slytherin Common Room, he headed toward the 6th Year Boys' Dormitory. Luckily, it was empty. He strolled over to Goyle's trunk and pulled out his Potions supplies. He only had a little over three quarters of what Draco needed. Pocketing the boomslang skin, Draco checked Crabbe's trunk to find that he had none. He closed the trunks and rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe the two oafs didn't lock their trunks. Zabini's, like most intelligent people's, was locked, so Draco left the room. He sighed. What he had would have to make do. Honestly, it couldn't make _that_ much of a difference.  
  
  
Draco strode toward the Quidditch Pitch an hour later, dressed in his full uniform. He had successfully brewed the potion and now was pain free. He entered the Slytherin locker room with a confident grin on his face.  
  
Ready to kick some Hufflepuff arse? he called over his team's prattling.  
  
Clarisse stopped whatever she was saying to Blaise and gave him an arrogant look. Of course.  
  
The team smirked and participated in a final insult session for twenty minutes until the teams were introduced.  
  
The game started perfectly. Slytherin had forty points within the first three minutes. Draco smiled as he hovered above the pitch and watched Kyle, Clarisse, and Adam zigzag through the confused Hufflepuffs and score yet another ten points. When a Hufflepuff Chaser had received the Quaffle, Crabbe whacked a bludger in his direction, shocking the shit out of the poor bloke so that he dropped the Quaffle into the awaiting hands of Adam. Another ten points.  
  
Draco smirked in satisfaction. With the way the game was proceeding, Slytherin will have won by three hundred points in less than an hour. He shivered violently as he surveyed the pitch for the Snitch. It was freezing with an icy wind blowing every so often. Draco kept an eye on Justin Finch-Fletchly, who was doing the same thing to him. Time for some fun.  
  
He dove suddenly towards the Slytherin goal post.  
  
It looks like Slytherin Seeker Malfoy has spotted the Snitch! the commentator's voice blared out. Draco could hear cheers and boos (more of the latter he noted), and he sensed Justin coming up behind him. He pulled up to flash a triumphant smirk at the Hufflepuff Seeker, who only glared.  
  
It looks like it was just a fluke, the commentator said. Slytherin scum...  
  
a stern voice reprimanded in the background.  
  
Draco laughed and high-fived Blaise as he flew past.  
  
Nice one, Malfoy. Stupid git falls for it _every_ time.  
  
Draco proceeded in circling the pitch while his Chasers racked up points. At the moment, they were leading 170-10. He didn't realize how high he was until he started feeling lightheaded. He descended a little to lose some elevation but the lightheaded feeling lingered. He shook his head violently as a buzzing sound reached his ears. Forgetting his altitude problems, he forcefully swung his broom around in a 180 degree spin, which caused him to become a tad dizzy, and bolted toward the golden ball floating about fifty feet away. As he got nearer, it ascended and he aggressively chased after it. It kept increasing in height, which didn't help Draco's dizziness, but he focused all his attention on that little golden ball. He almost had his hand clasped around it when it took a dive downward. Cursing, Draco followed. He was now aware of Finch-Fletchly coming up on his left and the fanatical screaming of the crowd. Not to mention the pounding in his ears.  
  
Malfoy is hot on the trail of the Golden Snitch, but Finch-Fletchly is not far behind. Looks like it's gonna be a close one, folks...  
  
Draco urged his broom to go faster. He sped after the Snitch, Justin now at his side. The two wound around the Pitch, other players rushing to get out of their path. Draco shoved Justin, but the Hufflepuff managed to maintain his balance. They circled around the pitch, the Snitch almost gleefully darting from side to side in front of them. The cheering increased as the competition did. As well as the pounding and dizziness in Draco's head. _The fast speed and loop de loops really don't help the matter_, he thought.  
  
two voices from below shouted. He ignored Clarisse and Adam as he followed the Snitch. He should have listened, for a bludger was heading straight for his head. But he was attentive to nothing but the Snitch. However, by some stroke of good fortune, Crabbe jetted in between the two seekers and the Snitch and slugged the bludger in the opposite direction, blocking Justin from the Snitch in the process. Justin was forced to swerve left, leaving Draco in clear range of the Snitch. The ball dove and Draco, anticipating the move, mimicked it. Inching closer, his hand closed around the tiny winged ball. For some reason though, even though he had stupendously caught the Snitch, the cheering turned to horrified screams. _Come on, is it **that** terrible for Slytherin to win?_ The screaming was also decreasing in volume, or maybe the pounding in Draco's head was just becoming louder? He also swore he had stopped his broom once he caught the Snitch, and yet, the ground was getting closer at an alarmingly fast rate. He attempted to slow down. The realization that his broomstick was no longer beneath him was the last thought he processed before the pounding deafened him and everything went black.  
  
  
For the second time in four months, Draco woke to the bleak whiteness of the Hospital Wing. Groaning he turned his head to the left expecting to see Dumbledore and Snape accusing him of suicide. Instead he found six Slytherin Quidditch players lounging around his bed.  
  
Crabbe said. You're awake.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. _Master of the Obvious._  
  
You took quite a fall, Clarisse commented.  
  
Draco croaked incredulously.  
  
Uh, yea, Kyle snorted. From about two hundred feet in the air. You're lucky to be alive.  
  
Draco's eyes widened. Two hundred....what? How?  
  
Dunno, really, Adam shrugged. After Crabbe blocked Finch-Fletchly, you dove straight down after the Snitch. I saw you catch it, and then kind of...just slide off your broom, I guess.  
  
Everyone was screaming, but you must have passed out because you went all limp, Kyle added.  
  
Passed out? Draco asked, trying to comprehend. That explained the lightheadedness, dizziness, and head pounding.  
  
Yea, really scary, Blaise said. I flew to try and grab you but you were too far away. Luckily Snape, Dumbledore, Hooch, and Flitwick all performed a Hover Charm before you hit the ground.  
  
Barely though, Goyle stated. You were like _six inches_ from the ground. You could have _died_.  
  
Draco closed his eyes. _No shit, Sherlock._ But _why_ did I pass out? he asked, opening his eyes.  
  
His teammates shrugged.  
  
Draco put on an expression of nonchalance. Hmm, doesn't matter. Hey, at least we won, right?  
  
Yep, 320-30, Blaise smirked. We're only ten points behind Gryffindor now, with two more games left.  
  
Just then, the curtain rustled and Madam Pomfrey made her entrance with a clipboard under her arm.  
  
Ah, Mr. Malfoy! Thank Merlin, you were so close. So close, she murmured. To the Slytherin Quidditch team, she motioned the curtain.   
  
Alright, you can see him later, after dinner. Now get out, out! she shooed. He needs rest. Out!  
  
The Slytherins grumbled good-byes and then shuffled their way out. Madam Pomfrey began muttering spells to check Draco's vital stats, and marking things on her clipboard, all the while mumbling about the dangers of Quidditch. After the last spell, she raised an eyebrow and marked something more on the clipboard. Once she was done, she placed her hands on her hips.  
  
Alright, Mr. Malfoy, I want to know why this happened. A talented Quidditch player such as yourself doesn't just fall off his broom out of the blue, she stated.  
  
I don't know, ma'm, Draco said honestly. It was probably all the spiraling and high altitudes I encountered.  
  
Mmm, I don't think so. You and Mr. Potter, and sometimes Miss Chang, get involved in more complex flying that what I saw out there today, and you don't just pass out cold after those games, she asserted.  
  
Well, then I don't know what happened, Madam Pomfrey, Draco said although he had a pretty fair idea of what happened. Using only three quarters of boomslang skin instead of a full slab had made a _hell_ of a difference. It still relieved his pain, but had messed with his mind.  
  
Are you sure? she prodded. He nodded innocently and she peered at him doubtfully. Mr. Malfoy, are you using any kind of potion daily? Or perhaps, a few?  
  
Draco kept a straight face.   
  
She raised an eyebrow. Because, as I'm certain Professor Snape has informed you, consuming three or four potions at a time can have a negative effect on the body. It's almost the same effect of Muggle drugs such as cocaine or marijuana. It'll ruin the body.  
  
_So they say._ I know that, ma'm, Draco said as politely as he could. The woman was too close to the truth, but he was not going to admit it, and she couldn't prove it. There was no way he was going to stop taking his potions. Besides, the potions were to help him, not harm him.  
  
Well, good, as long as you are aware, the mediwitch said as she stared him down. He innocently stared back.  
  
Any other problems that could have caused this accident? You had quite a few bruises that last time I saw you in here. Maybe they were bothering you?  
  
Draco's eyes turned icy. They're almost healed, he told her curtly.  
  
Do you have any...others? she asked carefully, seeming unsure of how to phrase her question.  
  
was the cold reply. Anger boiled within him as his defensive stoic facade quickly took over at the question. How dare she bring that up! How dare she, Snape, and anyone else interfere! He could deal with his father perfectly fine all by himself. Not that it was any of their damn business anyway.  
  
Well, if you're sure...  
  
I'm _positive_.  
  
Madam Pomfrey nodded and pursed her lips. Alright then, she said briskly. She thought a moment. Mr. Malfoy, what did you have for breakfast this morning?  
  
Draco simmered down and thought back to that morning. Um, three slices of toast, and maybe a strip of bacon. I hadn't been that hungry.  
  
The mediwitch lifted her eyes heavenward. Well, no wonder you fainted! You children need to eat a lot before you go off flying around on those silly broomsticks. My heavens, she huffed. I'll ask a house elf to bring something up for you right now, seeing as you haven't eaten since then.  
  
She bustled out of the room. Draco sighed and closed his eyes. _Annoying woman_, he thought. At least she no longer thought he was using a lot of potions. He had been a bit worried when she started asking him those questions, afraid she would catch on to the truth. _Phew._  
  
And then, the nerve to ask him if he had any more bruises! He didn't want to be pitied by anyone; now that he was spying for the Order, his future was safe. All that mattered in the present was keeping face in order to stay alive until then. He had his impassive personality, quick wits, sharp tongue, and most importantly, his potions. He would be fine. Absolutely fine.  
  
Or would he?  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Dun dun dun....and the plot grows thicker. I think I spelled Justin's last name wrong, but I'm not sure, and I'm too lazy to look it up, lol. And I don't know if they call them goals in Quidditch, but they do now. Anyway,even though I'm not giving you a date for next chapter, I can still give you a preview :)  
  
*******Coming next chapter: More dueling lessons with our favorite Potions Master and werewolf....and lies are questioned....*******  
  
Very evasive, I know, lol. Now while you ponder the meaning of the preview, why don't you write a wee little review for me?? Thanks!!


	19. Truth and More Trouble

**Disclaimer: **Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling, I own nothing but the plot. And the squittle, but that will never be mentioned again, so it doesn't matter, lol.  
  
**A/N:** Happy Columbus Day everybody!! Thank Merlin for the day off, or this chapter would be coming later, lol. Guess who's going to London?!?!? ME!!!!!!! January 15th, baby! Cannot wait; it's a trip with school, and luckily my Creative Writing teacher loves HP, so we get to visit King's Cross Station and whatever JKR based Diagon Alley on.  
  
As usual, thank you _soooooo_ much for all the reviews, and the happy birthdays and the please update soons, lol. I'm going to write chapter 19 today, but I can't say when I'll have it typed up (my stupid SAT classes take 6 hours out of my weekday evenings). I want to be quick, since November 3 is rapidly approaching, and I REALLY want this done by that day. It'll be like: Published 11/03/02 & Updated 11/03/03...and that'll be it. LoL, I'm such a dork.  
  
**wavy avey**: You don't know _how_ close one of your guesses is to what's going to happen in chapter 19. I read your review, and was like _whoa_, lol. Thanks for the review!!  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 18: Truth and More Trouble**  
  
  
  
Draco was released from the Hospital Wing on Sunday morning with strict orders to maintain a proper diet. Madam Pomfrey told him she would be keeping an eye on him but as he sat down for dinner on Tuesday night, he still hadn't seen her lurking behind juice goblets or peering up at him from under the table. It didn't matter if she had, for he had been eating normally anyway. He lifted a forkful of pasta to his mouth as he tuned into whatever nonsense Pansy was babbling about.  
  
So I set her right. Honestly, how could she even think of comparing you to Longbottom, Drakey?  
  
Draco stared at her in lazy disgust.   
  
The blond sighed and summarized her story. I heard some Ravenclaw bitch say something about how you're becoming as accident prone as Longbottom, but I set her in her place, so you don't have to worry, she smirked, observing her red manicured nails.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. Er, thanks Pansy, he muttered, rolling his eyes. Whispers and rumors had followed him every time he walked through the corridors and mostly ignored them all, save for a few glares for reputation purposes.  
  
After supper, he decided to pay a visit to the library to research information for a Transfiguration essay. Why anyone would care, let alone experiment, how one transfigures a dog into a chair was beyond his imagination. McGonagall made it a weekly ritual to assign at least one pointless essay topic. Sighing, he pulled open the heavy oak doors of the library and strode toward the Transfiguration section. No one was there, thankfully. He wasn't in the mood to deal with people. He hadn't the faintest clue which book to look for, and with five double-sided aisles full of books, he had a lot of work on his hands.  
  
By the third aisle, he was becoming frustrated. A book entitled Transfigurations That Are Pointless But Were Invented Anyway would be nice, but unfortunately hadn't been written yet. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to blink away the now blurring book titles. When the bookcase began to sway, he staggered backwards into the opposite one. He leaned against it long enough to realize that the bookshelves in front of him really weren't threatening to topple on top of him. He closed his eyes and slid down to the cold stone floor to rest until the dizzy spell passed. He rested his head in his hands, hoping the lightheadedness would disappear soon. Madam Pomfrey was going to have a shit fit if she saw him in the hospital wing one more time.  
  
He didn't understand, though. He ate a full dinner meal, along with a complete breakfast and a healthy lunch. Madam Pomfrey's warning started to creep into his mind, but he quickly shoved it away. His potions were to _help_ him, not _harm_ him. It was probably just the Strengthening Potion wearing off. Still....Growing angry at the little doubts clawing at his brain, he pushed himself into a standing position determined to finish his stupid essay. This resulted in him barely able to catch the bookshelf as he wobbled in place. Once he was steady enough to walk, he impatiently resumed his search for a helpful Transfiguration book. As he continued, he never noticed a pair of dark eyes move away from a hole in between the books, nor did he feel the wind as the person to whom the eyes belonged stalked away, cape billowing.  
  
Draco Malfoy was digging himself a hole he couldn't climb out of. If he didn't stop denying the trouble he was getting himself into, his problem could turn serious. Fatally serious.  
  
  
  
  
Malfoy! Professor Dumbledore wants ter see ya, Hagrid called out as a chubby third year scuttled away from the class of Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years. Bring yer stuff, sence ther's not much o' the period left, and fer homework write a essay bout yer squittle.  
  
Draco eyed the creature. A dog/rabbit mix, red, furry, long ears, wagging tail, slimy nose, abominably ugly, and boring.   
  
Easy enough, he sneered.  
  
Taking the note from the half-giant, he strode through the snow toward the castle with the frosty wind chipping at his face. _It's too damn cold to still have classes outdoors_, he thought hugging his books to his chest. His frozen body relaxed and defrosted the minute he stepped inside the building. Loosening his cloak, Draco marched in the direction of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Glancing at the note, he recited the password (butterscotch) and tapped his foot on a stair as the stairway slowly revolved upwards. When it stopped he knocked on the door and entered Professor Dumbledore's office.  
  
Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy, the Headmaster greeted genially. Have a seat, we'll start as soon as Severus arrives.  
  
Draco sat down warily, genuine confusion etched on his pale face. What did Snape have to do with this? What was _this_ anyway?  
  
Butterscotch candy? Dumbledore offered, holding a basket of golden yellow candies.  
  
No thank you, Draco responded politely while trying to sort his brain out. What could they possibly want to talk to him about? The Order? Maybe he was receiving a new assignment or something. Or....His eyes narrowed. Snape had tattled. He had been so pissed at Draco for being late the previous dueling meeting, he had scampered off to Dumbledore to straighten Draco out. The sixteen year-old scowled at his conclusion. The bastard.  
  
As he mentally cursed his anger out, the aforementioned bastard walked in. Draco glared.  
  
My apologies, Headmaster, he spoke, raising a brow at Draco's vindictive expression. I had to end a wand fight in the corridor.  
  
Not a problem, Severus. The students' behavior has been punished adequately, I assume?  
  
Snape smirked, walking to position himself in front of the roaring fire, whose red orange arms leapt out and almost burned him. His smirk slowly faded and he fixated a questioning stare on Draco. The boy continued to glare in response, and turned back to Dumbledore.  
  
What did you want to see me about, sir?  
  
Dumbledore became serious. Ahh, yes. First of all, I never had the chance to thank you for the information about New Year's Day. Although we didn't have much time to prepare, it helped tremendously; without it, devastating events would have occurred.  
  
Draco allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't a problem.  
  
Dumbledore leaned forward and clasped his hands together on his desk. That is precisely what we would like to ask you about, Draco. How exactly did you come about that information?  
  
Draco knitted his brow and, for a fleeting second, contemplated confessing that he had goaded the Death Eaters. But... My father, aunt, and uncle told me, sir....ultimately decided against it.  
  
They told you? Dumbledore repeated skeptically.  
  
I highly doubt three high-ranking Death Eaters would just blurt out all the details of Voldemort's top secret plans to a sixteen year-old boy, Draco, Snape remarked dryly.  
  
Well, they only told me they had a business trip' to attend to for Voldemort, and I had to eavesdrop on the details, Draco explained. Hey, it _was_ the truth. But don't worry, they had _no_ idea I was listening. None at all, he added hastily.  
  
A slight twinkle glittered behind the crescent shaped spectacles perched on Dumbledore's nose. Snape's eyes narrowed accusingly.  
  
And that's all? he pried.  
  
Draco said slowly, that's all.  
  
Snape paused a moment. Then why is your father under the impression that Potter and Professor Dumbledore are starting a defense group against Voldemort?  
  
Draco's eyes widened in what he hoped appeared to be shock, instead of the guilt and alarm he felt. Maybe he thinks Potter is stupid enough to start his army thing from last year again? he asked in a more feeble voice than he had meant.  
  
Then why did he tell me that he got that information from _you_? Snape snapped.  
  
Draco looked back and forth between his two professors and then locked eyes with the floor. I, err, may have mentioned something like that.  
  
Care to explain? Snape asked snidely.  
  
Draco lifted his head and his normal distant expression was replaced by a guilty one. I found it hard to believe that the Lestranges were just randomly visiting. I knew they were over for a Voldemort-related reason, so I made something up to catch their attention. You know, tell them something they wanted to hear so they would tell me what I wanted to hear.  
  
except that you didn't really make it up, Snape stated. It actually exists!  
  
I _know_. It was the first believable thing that popped into my mind, Draco said, exasperated. But I didn't actually say it was the Order.  
  
Snape folded his arms across his chest. Did you even stop to consider the consequences your words would have? It is now _my_ job to find out more about this defense group'. Not to mention that you were too close to the truth; the Order could have been revealed!  
  
Dumbledore intervened as an insulted look came over Draco's face. What Severus is trying to say, Draco, is next time you are going to prompt Death Eaters with false information, check with us first. Or, if you had already done so, let someone know afterwards.  
  
Draco's offended expression dissolved and he nodded meekly. I'm sorry, he said softly as a familiar feeling of failure settled in his heart. _You're nothing but a worthless failure...A worthless failure...Failure...  
  
_No need to apologize, Draco, Dumbledore said gently. Just don't hold back anything from now on. Never hold back information from people that are trying to help you. Snape sent Draco a piercing glance. The boy quickly looked back at Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore continued, lowering his voice and his eyes sparkling wisely, I think your story may prove useful.  
  
Both bewildered, Snape and Draco asked simultaneously,   
  
Dumbledore smiled. Voldemort wants you to obtain information about this defense group', does he not, Severus?  
  
Snape furrowed his brow in confusion. That would be correct.  
  
Well, information you shall obtain, he said, popping a butterscotch into his mouth.  
  
It just won't be...true, Draco guessed.  
  
The headmaster nodded. The combination of confusion and a scowl faded from Snape's face into a placid, impressed look.  
  
We will discuss this at the next Order meeting, I presume, Headmaster?  
  
Yes, Severus, we will. And now, before you go Mr. Malfoy, is there anything else you wish to tell us?  
  
The blond paused for a moment and then shrugged. No, not that I can think of at the moment, he answered.  
  
Snape peered scrupulously at him. Are you sure? Draco held his gaze and nodded defiantly. Anything else you're holding back, perhaps?  
  
It was Draco's turn to peer, and he eyed his Head of House suspiciously. I'm positive, he enunciated clearly.  
  
Snape nodded slowly and shot Dumbledore a glance that Draco couldn't read. It seemed like a smug, I-told-you-so look, but the sixteen year-old wasn't certain. Dumbledore ignored the look and smiled at Draco.  
  
Thank you for your time, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you have lunch next? Draco nodded. Very well, off you go then.  
  
Draco stood and walked toward the heavy stone door that hid Dumbledore's office.  
  
Dueling meeting Friday, Draco. Don't forget.  
  
Draco turned to Snape. I won't, he said sourly. So Snape _was_ still pissed about that. Good afternoon, sirs.  
  
He rode down the revolving stairs in a speculative state. Snape knew something that Draco didn't. Or knew something he wasn't supposed to. Draco squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
He just wished he knew what.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Next chapter is the dueling meeting, a lot happening there, lol, I can't wait to write it. Please **review**, it would make me so happy!!  
  
Also, I need help finding a fic. I started reading it like months ago, don't remember the author or title, didn't bookmark it or put it on my favorites, but I know it was really really great. I believe it takes place the summer before 5th, but it could be 6th, lol. The Dursleys neglect to pick Harry up, so he's forced to get to 4 Privet Drive by himself, and when he gets there, they've moved to like Australia or something, so he has no house. He ends up living at the Leaky Cauldron and works for Tom and a few other people, they call him Jim, so no one recognizes him...Hmm, what else? Oh yea, he takes a shopping trip with Mrs. Granger, and gets contacts. Meanwhile, Mrs. Figg has no idea where he is, b/c he's not showing up on her clock (it's similar to the Weasleys' clock) so she and Dumbledore are worried and stuff. And that's all that I remember, lol. If this sounds like your fic, or you know which one I'm talking about, **please** give me the title or author. Thank you _sooo_ much!! 


	20. Removing The Mask

**Disclaimer:** Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Well, as you can probably guess, this story won't be finished by November 3rd, seeing as that would be tomorrow. I realized this in school one day, and mentally Avada Kedavra'd all my teachers, the school building, textbooks, the lunch ladies, school posters, janitors, locker room....okay, you get the point - SCHOOL SHOULD DIE!! Ahem. Right. The small amounts of writing time I've had in between school, sleeping, eating, and showering were spent improving this chapter. When I first typed it, it was six pages long and once I started adding more, it became eight :) So I hope you enjoy!! (You, unlike certain learning institutions, should not die, but live happy little perfect lives cause you all left me a great amount of wonderful reviews)  
  
**SotMoon:** Thank you so much for reviewing every chapter since 7. I was so excited to see so many reviews from one person, lol. If I ever had the chance to give Draco a hug, I would probably never let go. Or kidnap him and take him away from his father forever :)  
  
**Alynna Lis Eachann:** Thank you SO MUCH for telling me about Realizations!! Wishweaver has updated it a lot since I last read it, so I've got a bunch of chapters to read, lol. Thanks for the review!  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 19: Removing The Mask**  
  
  
  
Agility and spell knowledge are the two most important factors of dueling, Lupin lectured that Friday night in the group's mirrored room. His students were seated in front of him and were listening intently (well, _almost _all of them at least) while his teaching partner stood off to the side with a sour look on his face. Can you, using logic, tell me why?  
  
No one was shocked that Hermione volunteered.  
  
Extensive knowledge of spells enables one to use a larger assortment on their opponent, therefore incorporating the element of surprise and hopefully giving one the advantage, she seemingly recited. She inhaled before her next answer, but Draco cut off her explanation.  
  
Agility allows quicker reactions, he drawled, leaning his head on one arm of his chair. If you're not quick, it's safe to say you're screwed, he said casually, swinging his legs over the other arm of the chair.  
  
Thanks for the uplifting encouragement, Fred remarked sarcastically.  
  
Lupin chuckled. Both Hermione and Draco are correct. Knowledge of many spells and quickness are of utmost importance when you engage in a duel.  
  
There are also rules that all proper duelists follow, Snape spoke.  
  
No Death Eater is going to play fair, sir. They only have one goal.  
  
Snape scowled. While that _is_ true, Draco, you still should learn the rules.  
  
Before starting, bow in respect. Stay alert. Try not to provoke opponent with derogatory terms. Always focus aim. Never physically touch opponent, the blond rattled off.  
  
Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco's smart-arse display of knowledge. Draco is right, he said in a monotone. Bowing shows respect and acknowledgement of the rules. You stay alert for obvious reasons. Generally, you are not supposed to provoke your opponent, in case they decide to use a drastic spell such as an Unforgivable or Deadly. Always focus your wand aim so you hit your target and the spell does not bounce back at you. And you never physically touch your opponent because it is believed that it defeats the purpose of wand dueling; also, one partner may be larger than the other and would have an unfair advantage, Snape elaborated. Any questions?  
  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George all shook their heads in the negative while Draco blankly stared into space. Lupin relieved Snape.  
  
Does anyone remember the proper dueling stance you maintain? After the bowing, of course.  
  
Wand above head, pointed at opponent. Opposite hand stretched toward opponent, palm down. _Or_, wand hand stretched toward opponent, and the opposite hand above head, clenched into a fist. Feet slightly spread apart, with one in front of the other, Draco answered immediately, his eyes never leaving the imaginary point they were focused on.  
  
Very good, Snape said thinly. Wand arm above your head, pointed at your opponent. He demonstrated by pointing at them.  
  
Or, wand arm stretched toward your opponent, Lupin added, also demonstrating.  
  
Feet slightly apart, in sort of a lunge position. Can anyone guess why? Snape asked, already knowing who would answer.  
  
  
  
Yes, Draco. Mobility - you are able to rock back and forth, pivot, or jump to the side if need be, Snape explained, as Remus illustrated each movement. And finally, the arm opposite your wand arm straight out in front of you.  
  
Or clenched into a fist above your head, Lupin supplemented. Draco, why's that?  
  
To guide the aim of your spells. To keep your target in focus, the boy replied as if he were spitting back memorized information. His eyes were now closed and a hand rested on his forehead.  
  
Correct. Everyone got that?  
  
Remus, how will stretching your hand in front of you or clenching it into a fist guide spells that you're casting with the other hand?  
  
Lupin chuckled. Tough concept to understand, Harry. The only thing I can compare it to is this: Have you ever watched a Muggle baseball game? The raven-haired boy nodded. Well, when a player throws, he stretches his non-throwing arm forward to guide the ball into his teammate's glove. It's the same principle.  
  
Harry nodded in comprehension.  
  
Last week you worked on agility and reflexes; this week, you'll continue, just in proper dueling form, Remus announced. But first, Severus and myself will demonstrate a duel.  
  
Actually, Lupin, I was wondering if Draco could take your place, since he enjoyed flaunting his knowledge of dueling, and we _seem to be boring him_, Snape said, voice rising at the end of his statement.  
  
Draco lazily cracked open his eyes. You're not boring me; I was listening. Besides, this is all a review for me. A professional duelist was hired when I was younger to properly train me. My father insisted on practicing' with me after each lesson, so I had no choice but to learn. Dying was _not_ an option, he finished quietly.  
  
Well, neither is this. We'll have a little _Slytherin_ duel, Snape coaxed, a strange glint of satisfaction in his dark eyes, which went unnoticed by Draco.  
  
Draco swung his feet over the chair and hesitated a second before opening his eyes and glaring at Snape.  
  
he snapped. But all spells are in, except Unforgivables.  
  
We are _not_ performing the Deadlies or the Mentals, Draco.  
  
I thought you wanted a _Slytherin_ duel, Draco mocked. Upon seeing Snape's glare, he rolled his eyes. Whatever, fine, he muttered, standing and striding over to stand opposite Snape.  
  
The Potions teacher twisted his mouth in what could be assumed was his equivalent for a smile. Good, are you ready?  
  
Draco nodded and then remembered something, for he turned to his schoolmates with a hand on his hip and a smirk on his lips.  
  
Now, don't you youngsters worry, you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear! he imitated with a toothy smile.  
  
Fred, George, Ron, and Harry chuckled; even Snape found the impersonation amusing, but only because he would have kicked Lockhart's arse in a real duel. Hermione only sniffed indignantly.  
  
That man was the stupidest dolt I'd ever seen, Ron announced. Hermione glared at him.  
  
Draco nodded vigorously. Me too.  
  
Can we start?  
  
Draco took his dueling stance and nodded.  
  
Snape raised his wand and said, On three...  
  
  
  
They simultaneously shouted , so both were disarmed and fell to the floor. Once on their feet again, spells flew back and forth, strange ones that the others (save for Hermione and Remus) had never heard of. While they battled, Lupin pointed out certain aspects and tips.  
  
See how Professor Snape pivots and ducks so easily? That's why you place one foot in front of the other.  
  
Draco's guiding arm slipped a few inches, so his aim was slightly off there.  
  
After Draco hit Snape with a nose-elongating hex, Snape pointed his wand to retaliate.  
  
_Exutum armaros_! he bellowed.  
  
Draco's eyes widened in recognition and he attempted to duck, but to no avail. The spell hit him, and he doubled over, dropping his wand and falling to his knees. His energy was drained from his body and color faded from his already pale face. The Gryffindors stared in horror as the Slytherin wilted like a dying rose in front of them.  
  
What did you _do_ to him? Harry cried.  
  
That spell removes any protective spells or potions from an opponent's body, Snape replied, using a quick _Finite Incantatum_ to remove all other spells from his and Draco's bodies. Judging by Draco's condition, he was using many.  
  
Draco hissed furiously as dull pain pumped through his veins and his head began to feel heavy. He crawled over to the mirrored wall and watched as his Concealment Potion disappeared and his hideous bruises emerged, including any new ones he had acquired over the holiday break. He whirled around on the floor to face Snape.  
  
You cheated! he accused, enraged.  
  
And you lied, so we're even, Snape said.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. I told you and Dumbledore the truth two nights ago.  
  
It's _Professor_ Dumbledore if you don't mind, and I am referring to lying to Madam Pomfrey when she had already done a spell to see exactly which potions you were taking. She wanted you to admit the truth so she didn't have to accuse you, but you didn't.  
  
Draco leaned against the mirror and rested his elbows on his knees. He cradled his forehead in his hands, eyes squeezed shut. Fine, you caught me, whoop dee do, he muttered. Now would you kindly perform the counterspell so my potions will go back into effect?  
  
Snape's forehead creased and his livid eyes widened. Draco! You really don't understand, do you?  
  
Draco wearily lifted his head. No, I don't, he glared. Nor do I care; I just want my bruises hidden, my pain gone, and my strength back so we can stop wasting time and continue the dueling meeting, he said, closing his eyes and sighing.  
  
Severus studied the teenager for a minute, pondering about his disposition since he had been asked to help spy; or even his entire life in general. Why won't you ever accept help, Draco? he inquired.  
  
Draco scowled. I don't _need_ help! There's nothing wrong! The only thing I needed was the possibility of a better future than laying around in Azkaban, and you gave me that, he told Snape. You all gave me that, he said, looking around, by accepting me and entrusting me with the secret of this group when I represent all that you are against. The hope for a better future is _all_ I need. Nothing else, he declared, staring Snape in the eye. The former Slytherin walked toward him.  
  
But what about_ now_, Draco? Don't you see? You -  
  
The present will continue just as the past has, Draco interrupted icily. I can deal with life by myself, as I have for the last sixteen years. Trust me, I am quite capable, seeing as I'm alive.  
  
Capable, yes, Snape agreed. He eyed the boy inquisitively. But handling it the right way?  
  
The blond sent him a hostile glare. Of course. Absolutely. There is no -  
  
You are slowly killing yourself.  
  
Draco's eyes dropped to the ground upon hearing the statement. No longer did they hold defiance, anger, or bitterness, but pure confirmed fear.  
  
They're helping me, sir, he said softly. They're supposed to _help_ me. _Help_ me, not harm me, he reassured almost hysterically, although it couldn't be determined who he was trying to convince - the others or himself.  
  
They're doing more harm than good, Draco, Severus told him a little less harshly. That's why you fell during the Quidditch game and have been experiencing frequent dizzy spells. Taking, what - four? - potions daily has a detrimental effect on your body.  
  
Draco nodded and hung his head in defeat, he whispered, slightly paralyzed by panic as he realized how serious his situation really was. A jumble of emotions flowed through his body, but his mouth was unable to communicate them. For too long he had been forced to hide emotions, and now couldn't remember how to express them. They hovered inside him with no escape. His chin rested upon his knees and he chewed his bottom lip as the floor become a pensieve of his life. Memories and voices whirled around like a tornado and he wanted very much for them to leave him alone.  
  
_Don't you dare cry...Malfoys are always in control...You disgust me...Malfoys are the paradigm of power...Emotion is a sign of weakness...You WILL become a Death Eater...Never compare yourself to me...You will be punished, and not just by me...It is unacceptable to be beaten by a mere half-blood...You better not embarrass me...A _mudblood _is doing better than you?..You are to do what the Dark Lord says...One mistake, Draco, one mistake and you are done...Don't you dare tell _me_ what to do...You worthless little piece of shit...You're nothing but a failure...There was no way out...  
  
No way out...   
  
No way out...   
  
No way out...   
  
No way out...  
_  
Draco's tightly squeezed his eyes shut to obscure the blurring images of his life and covered his ears with his arms to block the condemning voice that continued to chime in his head. It was becoming increasingly louder, and then changed to calling his name and shaking him.  
  
Draco. Draco!  
  
His eyes flew open, remembering the meeting and how he had gotten in this situation. He glared up at Snape who was leaning over him, hand on Draco's arm. His dark eyes bored curiously into Draco's.  
  
What just happened? You looked to be in some type of trance; are you okay?  
  
Draco shook his head. No, it was, I just, it - I'm fine, he finished breathlessly. It was nothing; I just blanked out, that's all. I'm fine.  
  
Snape raised a greasy eyebrow suspiciously, so Draco looked at the others. Remus stood only a few feet away, prepared to help if Severus had needed it. The Golden Trio, Fred, and George all watched him with an emotion that was a distant cousin of worry. A pair of green eyes sent him a look of incredulous doubt. He tried to behold them all with a look of confidence, but his mask didn't seem to be functioning. Soon, they weren't the only people he saw.  
  
Tonks' purple framed face popped into his head, the sparkle in her blue eyes concentrated just on him. McGonagall's stern features filled his mind, only they were a bit softened now. Bill Weasley's friendly countenance appeared with a hint of nonchalant apprehension. Even Moody's creepy magical eye joined them, anxiously trying to detect something. And suddenly he felt something wet slide down his cheek.  
  
  
  
  
  
No what, Draco? Snape asked, a tone of concern evident in his voice.  
  
The blond's eyes shimmered with unshed tears.   
  
I'm not okay.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
OMG, dudes, I just used symbolism. Wow. Nathaniel Hawthorne must be rubbing off on me. (If you've ever read The Scarlet Letter, you know he chokes you with symbolism.) Watch, probably no one picked up on it. If you did, lemme know so I can decide how well I did at incorporating it. (I used another literary technique in an earlier chapter, but I'll explain that in the end. Heh heh heh) PLEASE **REVIEW**!!  
  
I really need to write shorter author's notes. Aghh, there's always next chapter...  



	21. The Two Way Street Of Understanding

**Disclaimer: **Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Well, I finished notebook #2. Two entire notebooks filled with The Pain Within. That's either nuts or I'm really sloppy. And this is Chapter 20, omg, lol. Yet another milestone. Would you believe I had originally thought this story would be under 10 chapters? ::snorts:: Well, enjoy the chappy, it's quite emotional if I do say so myself.  
  
**Audrey:** Ahhh, thank you for all the wonderful reviews!!! Yes, Draco needs a hug or two or 500. And I like the new layout of your site :)  
  
**To all my faithful reviewers:** I can't thank you enough. I think I love you all more than people I actually know, lol. Your reviews absolutely amaze me and I'm so excited when I get even one. So thank you times infinity, and enjoy the chapter!!  
  
This chapter is dedicated to **xo joyness ox**, whose IM's, 8 times out of 10, begin with did u update yet?? LoL I want you to know that it is 10:33 PM on Friday, so I stayed true to my promise :)  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 20: The Two Way Street Of Understanding**  
  
_  
  
It hurts my soul cause I can't let go  
All these walls are caving in  
I can't stop my suffering  
I hate to show that I lost control  
I'm about to break  
I can't stop this ache  
I can't mend this torn state I'm in  
Getting nothing in return  
What did I do to deserve the pain of this slow burn?*_  
  
A few weeks later, Draco was growing frustrated. It had been simple to learn from Professor Snape how to brew potions that combined the effects he desired or which ingredients complimented or negated each other. He caught on quickly to Madam Pomfrey's instructions and tips for temporary relief of painful bruises. But finding the key to unlock his hidden emotions was a different story.  
  
How does one break down the defensive barriers that he's shielded himself behind for his entire life? It didn't seem possible to just pour out every emotion he ever felt or experienced to another living soul. It wasn't fair - to him or them. Inner feelings were the only thing he was allowed to develop himself (not that anyone really decides what to feel) - why should he share? Why should anyone else be forced to hear about the atrocities he endured? They could never comprehend the emotions he felt. And what would they think? He desired no pity, for it changed nothing. What if they thought his life could be worse and that he was making a bigger deal than it truly was, in their opinion? Would they think him weak for enduring it all? Would they find him stupid for not involving authority? Pathetic for living a lie? Would - _could_ - anyone understand?  
  
Fear hindered him. He feared what another might conceive of his situation. He feared rejection for who he really was. But most of all, he feared pain. Hiding behind nasty insults and sneers prevented his becoming close with anyone, and therefore deterred the possibility of additional emotional pain. A firm childhood belief of his constituted that the less pain let out meant less pain let in. Now he wasn't quite sure anymore. After burying his emotions for so long and not sharing them with anyone, he felt like he was going to explode. Even so, he wasn't able to just disclose his feelings to someone, and became highly defensive if another tried to initiate a conversation. He coyly ignored Dumbledore's subtle encouragement and snapped at Snape's formal attempts. Which, try hard as he might not to, he was going to repeat tonight, since Snape had summoned him to his office.  
  
As he strode through the dungeon corridors, he considered telling his professor that maybe he didn't need help as badly as he thought, seeing as he couldn't bring himself to achieve it. He could say he just wasn't the type of person to openly admit his feelings that's all. It was the cowardly way out, but he was becoming impatient with his incapability to open up to someone. He was phrasing the words correctly in his head when he entered the Potions classroom and then Snape's office.  
  
Professor, I've been -  
  
Through the tap door, Draco. She's already here, the greasy haired professor interrupted as he scribbled furiously in red ink on some poor student's parchment.  
  
Draco blinked. Uh, who?  
  
Snape answered without glancing up from his work.  
  
Draco grinned softly upon hearing the name. Tonks was one of his favorite people even though he had seen her less than a dozen times. She was easy to get along with and was very friendly; he had warmed to her quickly. Confused as to why she was here, and eager to see her, he totally forgot his speech about the unnecessity of help. Stepping through the tap door, he immediately spotted her now blue hair on the opposite side of the room, on the other side of the long table the Order used to conduct meetings. Apparently, Draco wasn't the only guest invited to Tonks' little party, for she was already chatting animatedly with a dark-haired person.  
  
Nice set-up you have here, Draco commented, observing the 12 foot area of floor covered in neon-colored satin throw pillows, But where's the party hats? The cupcakes? The vodka?  
  
Tonks shook her head and threw a pink pillow at him. Cute, Draco, cute. Hello to you too.  
  
Draco smiled and plopped down on a bunch of pillows. Hi Tonks. Hullo Harry.  
  
The Gryffindor grinned back in greeting and turned to Tonks. Now that Draco's here, would you mind mentioning to what we owe the pleasure of this little slumber party?  
  
A slumber party, is it? Draco drawled, fingering the smooth satin of the blue pillow beneath him. Good Merlin, Tonks, you do realize we're related, right?  
  
Tonks stared at him quizzically. Yes, and...?  
  
So you can only sleep with Harry, sorry. No threesome tonight. He received two pillows directly in the face for that one.  
  
I suppose I deserved that, he mumbled, But Harry set that one up. I couldn't help myself.  
  
Tonks rolled her eyes. Whatever you say, blondie. Besides this isn't a slumber party, I just wanted to be comfortable. I have something to show you two. Originally, I dug it out only for you Harry, but I realized it might interest you too, Draco.  
  
She pulled a large leather book from beneath a yellow pillow and presented it to them. Tada! A genuine Black family photo album, in mint condition. Harry and Draco exchanged curious glances. One of the few family items my mum was able to smuggle from Black Manor before her family banished her forever. Let's take a look.  
  
She set the album in her lap and Draco and Harry crawled to her sides to better access the photos. She opened the big leather tome to the first page which contained a large moving photo.  
  
There's our maternal grandparents, Draco, with our mums when they were younger, she pointed out. Draco noted her intentional dismissal of Bellatrix.  
  
Draco stared at the photograph. His grandparents stood dignified behind the girls, absent of smiles. The girls, however, appeared how young children should - happy and carefree. Smiles adorned all three of their porcelain faces. Andromeda stood excitedly in the middle, curls bouncing around her rosy cheeks as she practiced different dimpled smiles. Bellatrix was to the right of her, straight black hair past her shoulders and a glint of childhood mischief evident in her eyes. Narcissa stood elegantly on Andy's other side, amused at her younger sisters' stances and behavior. The thing that struck Draco the most was the fact that all three linked arms in a fashion styled after the Three Musketeers. One for all, all for one.  
  
It's amazing how different and separate their paths have become, Draco murmured.  
  
Tonks nodded sadly. Mum misses her sisters. She turned the page. Here's Sirius, his brother, and their parents.  
  
Harry leaned closer. _That's_ his brother? How did he become a Death Eater? He looks so - so innocent.  
  
He was corrupted by greed and power, Tonks replied softly.  
  
The next page was a family of cousins Draco didn't really know. He did know that one of the sons now lived in France, for he constantly urged his mother to move there. The rest of the pictures were evidently from family get-togethers and parties. The Black children all looked so innocent then as they played and frolicked together, unaware of their fates. Harry and Draco asked tons of questions and Tonks answered them the best she could.  
  
Why is Sirius always with _her_? Harry asked at one point. They're always together, with their arms around each other's shoulders like they're best friends. Or it's them against everyone else. She doesn't deserve to be on his side.  
  
Tonks shook her head and sighed. Bellatrix and Sirius _were_ best friends, according to Mum. Both loved playing pranks and were able to plot and pull off extravagant plans together. But once Sirius started Hogwarts, and was sorted to Gryffindor, Mum said everything changed. Sirius found your father, and Bellatrix was sorted into Slytherin the following year. Their friendship collapsed after that.  
  
Harry looked torn. But how - how could you - could you _kill_ someone you once considered your best friend? he whispered.  
  
Tonks turned to him. Voldemort came along, and with him he brought the promise of power and Pure-blood superiority. She wasn't strong enough to resist false promises.  
  
I hate him, Draco whispered venomously from Tonks' other side.  
  
She leaned back on her arms so she could see both boys. she asked Draco.  
  
he answered. He's ruined my life.  
  
Before Tonks could reply, Harry angrily burst out, Your life? What about mine? I have no parents because of that man! I live with people who hate my existence because of him! I lost the closest thing I had to a father because of him! You have parents, your mother loves you, you _have_ a father.  
  
Draco's eyes flashed. Oh yes, because I would consider a man who beats the shit out of me at any given opportunity a father. Good one, Potter, he snarled. He wouldn't be like that if it weren't for Voldemort, and my life wouldn't be a living hell.  
  
You really think so? Tonks questioned calmly, resisting the urge to just hug each boy and never let go.  
  
Draco scrunched up his nose. What do you mean?  
  
Do you really think he'd be different if it weren't for Voldemort?  
  
Of course! Draco snapped. He would care. He would be a father.  
  
Tonks nodded slowly and for the first time, Draco began to seriously doubt that childhood belief too. He looked up at Tonks with wide, wondering eyes.  
  
Wouldn't he?  
  
Neither she nor Harry answered, and Draco delved deeper into his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was broken and filled with haunting pain.  
  
He wouldn't, he concluded dejectedly. He really wouldn't care one way or another, he spoke in a lifeless tone. When I was younger, I always blamed myself. He hit me because I didn't clean my toys up, kicked me because I had mud on my shoes, slapped me because I didn't sit straight at the dinner table, forced me to learn dark magic as a punishment. It was always my fault he never cared. As I got older, I fully believed it was Voldemort's doing. It was Voldemort's influence that made him evil and unfeeling.   
  
He paused and stood up to angrily pace the floor.  
  
Now - now I realize that none of that bloody mattered. With or without Voldemort, he would be unfeeling. With or without Voldemort, he never would have loved me.  
  
He bitterly kicked a pillow.  
  
I idolized him, so I just wanted an excuse. Something, anything, to place the blame on. Something that was beyond his control. Something that prohibited him from being the perfect father. A reason he never loved me.  
  
He looked at them, anguish etched into his pale face. Because he just doesn't hurts.  
  
He sat back down on the pillows next to Tonks, trying to calm his shaky nerves and get a grip on this new realization. She tucked a few strands of blond hair behind his ears.  
  
I think I always knew that, somewhere deep down, he told her. I was just in denial. I didn't want to admit that my father was any less perfect than a child thinks his father should be. It makes me feel so...  
  
Harry finished quietly.  
  
Draco eyed Harry in surprise and nodded.   
  
Tonks watched the boys stare at each other in wonder and curiosity. She could feel the presence of something she wasn't a part of, so she slowly stood.   
  
Um, if you two will excuse me, I have to use the ladies' room, okay? I'll be right back.  
  
The two boys broke eye contact and nodded as she left the room, each becoming lost in their own thoughts. Harry was the first to speak.  
  
I know the feeling. I never knew my parents, and although I have great friends around me now, that little part is still missing and can't be replaced. Sometimes, I'd give anything - absolutely anything - to see them. Anything to change the events of that Halloween night. Anything so that it wasn't me.  
  
I'd take your place gladly.  
  
Harry's green eyes blazed. Don't you dare say that. You don't mean it.  
  
Draco stared him in the eye. Yes I do. I think it would be better to never have known my father. I could dream and picture him the way I want. I would never have to know the horrible truth. I mean, how do you know you wouldn't have hated your father? How do you know if he would have been a good person?  
  
Harry frowned. I don't, but from -  
  
Exactly. You don't and never will. Your father will retain his glorified pedestal in your eyes. You'll never have to be proved wrong.  
  
Harry glared. My father _did_ love me, Malfoy. He died for me - that's enough proof for me. Sirius and Remus tell me he adored me. He would have been the perfect father - to me. But I guess I'll never know now, will I?  
  
The two boys participated in an angry staring contest until Draco broke contact and snorted wryly.  
  
You and I could have been good friends all these years, Harry. We have a lot in common. Unfortunately, you picked Weasley over me.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. Unfortunately, you were a snobby little git who thought I should be your friend because of your wealth compared to Ron's.  
  
Draco chuckled and laid back on the pillows. Harry shook his head, annoyed.  
  
It's not funny, they may not have a lot of money, but the Weasleys are -  
  
I'm not laughing at the Weasleys.  
  
Oh? Then what, praytell, are you on about?  
  
Wealth had _nothing_ to do with wanting your friendship, Draco said, turning his head toward the raven-haired boy. Nothing at all.  
  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows.   
  
Draco rolled his eyes. It was stupid. _Very_ stupid, now that I look back on it.  
  
All the more better. C'mon, tell me. I won't laugh...much.  
  
The blond glared. I wanted you to do for me what you had done for the rest of the world - save me. Harry looked mighty confused, but waited for Draco to continue.  
  
You had destroyed the infamous Lord Voldemort - the man whom I had been taught since I was four would rise again and be my future leader - and I thought that...that by befriending you I could escape my fate somehow. Stupid, I know.  
  
Harry thought about it and shook his head, but Draco cut him off before he could say anything.  
  
It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. You would have been in more danger. My father would use our friendship to suit the Dark Lord's needs. So in the end, it was better that you turned me down.  
  
Harry shrugged. I think that made sense though. It's a fraternizing with the enemy thing, sort of.  
  
Draco shrugged too. Yea, well. I don't think I'm cut out to have best friends anyway. I'm not an open person. I never wanted to be close to anyone, in fear of more pain.  
  
Once you've been burned, you don't want to play with fire, Harry supplemented.  
  
Draco nodded. Yes, kind of like that. And I don't want to be coddled or fussed over - I don't like showing weakness.  
  
Me either. But I've learned that it's not good to keep everything bottled inside. On the other hand, however, it's difficult to find someone to just listen without springing into action, he sighed. Ever since Sirius's death, everyone - the Order, Ron, Hermione, Gin - they all make a big fuss if I'm lapsing into one of my brooding modes'. Then they make sure, thinking that I can't figure out what's going on, that someone is constantly with me, talking with me, asking if I'm alright. It's a bit annoying.  
  
I would hate that too, Draco agreed. He looked up at Harry. What was he like? Sirius Black, I mean.  
  
Harry was taken off guard. Sirius? Hmm, he had a strange sense of humor. And he always liked to try to cheer everyone up. He refused to let anyone feel depressed on Christmas. He was loyal, and he always looked out for me. I mean, obviously, he _was_ my godfather.  
  
Draco grinned as Harry continued.  
  
He was very impulsive, which I suppose can be considered a fault, but it fit his personality. He and Remus liked to tell me all about the pranks they pulled with my father when they were at school. They were worse than Fred and George, he chuckled. I don't remember if it's Sirius or my dad that holds the record for the most amount of detentions in the history of Hogwarts, but it's most likely Sirius. I'd have to ask Remus.  
  
Draco sniggered, and Harry grinned. You know, back in third year when I first met Sirius, for a mere half hour I had the promise of being able to live with him and leave the Dursleys forever. I don't think I'd ever felt that elated in my life. Or crushed when it couldn't happen. Now it's back to the Dursleys each summer. It's the worst - going someplace where you're not wanted.  
  
Draco nodded. Trust me, I know.  
  
But you have your mum at least, Harry insisted.  
  
When she's not icing huge bruises or nursing broken bones, Draco spat.   
  
Harry looked startled. Your mum too? he asked.  
  
Draco nodded solemnly, but Harry could see a flare in his blue eyes.  
  
It pisses me off. She never does anything wrong. She's nothing less than perfect in my eyes. She doesn't deserve it, the words tumbled out in a big wave of fury. And yet he uses her as a human punching bag. It makes me sick.  
  
You don't deserve it either.  
  
Draco shrugged. I know, but it seems worse when he hurts her. He uses her against me, too. His threats don't bother me, so he threatens to harm her if I don't cooperate. It's a lose/lose situation.  
  
Harry pulled his knees to his chest. That's terrible.  
  
Yea, well, hopefully I'll be able to escape everything one day. A moment of sweet revenge. All I want is to watch Lucius Malfoy get the Dementer's kiss, Draco said viciously. Or die, whichever comes first for the bastard.  
  
The conversation dropped. Neither boy noticed Tonks' prolonged lavatory trip, and if they did, they didn't recognize it as intentional. For Tonks had figured out long ago that in order to help Draco Malfoy, one couldn't pretend to understand. One had to know.  
  
And the understanding wasn't just a one way street.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
*Partial lyrics from the chorus of Christina Aguilera's Walk Away'  
  
Ergh, the ending is bit weak for me, but I hope you liked the chapter anyway :)  
  
On a side note, did anyone see Love Actually? Alan Rickman was married to Emma Thompson - Snape and Trelawney married ::shudders:: And I LOVE HUGH GRANT!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  



	22. Realizing Who Cares

**Disclaimer:** Everything here belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. And any of the pathetic hex incantations I made up...Some of them are derived from Spanish but most are just letters that I put together to form a word, lol.  
  
**A/N:** Sorry about the long wait; truly I am. I plan on getting _at least_ one more chapter up before I return to school on Monday. But then I look at my favorite stories, and most of them haven't been updated since October or before. ::pouts:: So next time you find yourself impatient for one of my chapters - just think about your poor authoress waiting for her faves to be updated. (And if you happen to be on my favorites list - UPDATE FOR GOD'S SAKE!!!)  
  
  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 21: Realizing Who Cares**  
  
  
  
Tonks was obviously a very intelligent woman. Allowing Draco and Harry to talk to each other was a brilliant idea. Neither realized they were helping, or healing. They just considered it ironic how easily they related to their former enemy. In a way, Draco's wish to befriend the Boy-Who-Lived - to fraternize with the enemy to escape his fate - had been granted...just six years later than he expected.  
  
Unfortunately the friendship was restricted by the preservation of images. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Light and Dark. Good and Evil. Their rivalry was infamous throughout the school, so civilized conversation was not attainable by day. The only available time to meet was at night, and even that was limited by the two different Quidditch schedules. Professors McGonagall and Snape arranged a few night for them to hang out in the Order room, but those were rarities. Draco and Harry were resigned to pairing up at the weekly dueling practices and speaking in between hexes.  
  
You almost had the Snitch in last weekend's match..._Escalofrios_!  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. Yea, until _you_ grabbed it..._Mojaragua_!  
  
Harry shrugged. Sorry, mate..._Humedades_...But we were losing, we really needed those 150 points. Besides, it was cold. Too cold for April in my opinion.  
  
Well, we needed to win the game, and we didn't, Draco retorted. _Embrucidos_...The cold doesn't bother me that much. I live in the dungeons after all. Nice block.  
  
The boys, along with Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George, were practicing that Friday evening under the watch of Remus. Since the kids had been practicing duels for a few months, it was no longer necessary for both Remus and Severus to preside over each meeting, so the men alternated weekly.  
  
We still have a chance at winning the cup, you know. We're only 40 points behind you. That's easy to win back, and we've got two more games to play after spring vacation, Draco continued as he dodged Harry's spell.  
  
Harry smirked. Yes, I spose you do have a chance...since neither of those games are against us, he chuckled.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. Getting cocky, are you, Mr. Potter? _Vozmenos_! he cried. Let's see how cocky you are now, he snickered.  
  
Harry had started to shout but his voice stopped mid-syllable as his mouth kept moving. He glared evilly at Draco while the blond slowly repositioned himself.  
  
Well, c'mon, hex me, he taunted, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.  
  
Harry kept glaring and his lips moved soundlessly. Draco feigned confusion.  
  
What was that? Speak up, will you?  
  
Harry stepped closer and again mouthed something. Draco was sure that if it had been audible, it would not have been pleasant.  
  
Try the English language, Potter. I don't understand mimes, he grinned.  
  
Blame it on the Slytherin in him, but Draco was thoroughly enjoying Harry's distress. If Harry couldn't speak, he couldn't shout spells, meaning he couldn't harm Draco. Magically at least. By now he was frantically gesturing while Draco stood with his hands in his pockets, decoding Harry's movements.  
  
You're...going to behead me. Uh, I guess that could mean slit my throat too. Doesn't really matter I suppose, I'm dead either way. Uh-huh..oh, you're going to pound me? Hurt me too? Damn, I'm good at charades. Take it off? Take _what_ off? My ro - no, no, the spell? What spell?  
  
Harry glowered at the blond and inaudible words tumbled rapidly from his mouth. Draco concentrated on trying to comprehend exactly what he was pantomiming.  
  
Harry, try that again, but slower. I'm not expert lip reader here.  
  
The Gryffindor crossed his arms and slowly repeated what he had tried to convey, while Draco spoke each word aloud.  
  
Take off the In - au - di - ble Spell right now...Oh, _that_ spell. Right, I'll have to see if I can remember the counterspell, hmm.  
  
He pretended to stroke his chin in thought. Harry immediately mouthed words again, stopped, and then said it slower so the Slytherin could understand. Draco returned to lip reading.  
  
I bet - ter re - mem - ber it or else. And once I do, I bet - ter run be - cause you are go - ing to be mer - ci - less with hex - es. Draco eyed Harry lazily. Fine, I guess I can lift the spell. Hopefully, you've learned your lesson..._Vozmas_.  
  
As soon as Harry's voice returned, a string of hexes sent Draco sprawling to the floor. After about six, Harry relented and strolled across their area to stand over the leg-locked, long-toothed, ear-enlarged, pot-bellied, purple-haired, wart-covered blonde.  
  
Lesson learned, he smiled triumphantly.  
  
Yes, well I was awfully bored with now dueling partner, Draco stated, smirking.  
  
Harry grinned and removed the spells he had cast on Draco. He reached down a hand to help the blond to his feet. Draco pulled himself up and brushed off his robes. He looked at Harry, and all hints of mirth and mischief had disappeared; replaced by a defensive look.  
  
And I don't much care for threats.  
  
He swept past Harry so they could square off again, but the Gryffindor never moved.  
  
Me either actually, Harry revealed softly, then walked to position himself also. They lose their intimidation when they're used so often.  
  
Or when they turn into promises, Draco added darkly.   
  
Harry countered Draco's polka dot spell with a   
  
_Entinta_...so what is the infamous Mr. Potter doing for spring vacation? Not going back to the Muggles, are you?  
  
Harry scrunched his face into a scowl. _Rendaras_...Hell no, I'd stay at school if it came to that. I like to see the Dursleys as little as possible. I'm going to Ron's for the week, what about you? Going home?  
  
Unfortunately..._Caliente_...I get to attend an Order meeting after this to discuss whatever they want me to do this time. My father will be home the entire week so I can snoop around for more information, which is good for the Order.  
  
_Bolios_...But bad for you, Harry knowingly finished.  
  
Draco shrugged as he shot a spell at the raven-haired boy. I'll manage.  
  
Need my cloak? Harry asked in a low voice.  
  
Draco considered the offer. Yea, it might help. Not much with my father around, since I'll have to be extra careful when I use it. But yes, thanks.  
  
No problem, Harry replied. I'll send it with a school owl tomorrow morning before the train leaves. He paused. Are you going to be okay?  
  
Draco furrowed his eyebrows. What do you mean?  
  
Harry shifted his position. Well, you're going home, and they'll probably ask you to spy and get whatever details on Voldemort that you can, right?  
  
The blond nodded.  
  
Just be careful, alright? Harry hissed. Don't be too proud to come back here.  
  
Draco glared. Look, I gave my word that I would come here if I felt I was in any danger. Do you think I would lie?  
  
Harry stared back. No. But your sense of danger is probably off compared to the Order's.   
  
Draco raised a silvery eyebrow in offense, and Harry continued before the Slytherin could tell him off.  
  
I didn't mean to offend. But you said yourself that you don't like to show weakness. Neither do I. We both need to realize that always acting strong and independent isn't necessarily a good thing.  
  
Draco stared in awed shock. Harry's words struck a nerve. The way the boy thought so deeply into things was unnerving. Along with the fact that he was so similar to Draco. The blond nodded in comprehension.  
  
I guess it's something we'll both have to work on, he whispered.  
  
Harry smiled somberly. Glancing at the other dueling pairs, the two boys removed their cast spells with quick _Finite Incantatem_'s. They followed Harry's fellow Gryffindors over to a beckoning Remus.  
  
Alright, we're going to end a bit early today because most of you have the train to catch in the morning, and there's an Order meeting after this. There will obviously be no practice next Friday, but we'll resume the Friday after, the werewolf announced. Maybe we could even fit in another practice before that; maybe that Monday or Tuesday?  
  
I believe Slytherin has the pitch that Monday, so Tuesday would be preferable for me, Draco spoke.  
  
Remus looked from Harry to Ron.  
  
We don't have the pitch until that Thursday, so Tuesday's fine with us, Ron said, Harry agreeing beside him.  
  
Remus smiled. Good then. Either Severus or myself will be here; let's set 8:00 as the tentative time. It will be confirmed sometime before then.  
  
The students nodded in comprehension and Remus ushered them toward the door.  
  
Now get to bed, the lot of you. I never understood why the train must leave at 8:00 in the morning, but it does, so get some sleep. You're staying for the meeting, correct, Draco?  
  
Professor Snape told me to be here.  
  
Remus nodded and the group exited. The Gryffindors said a few quick hello's, especially to Molly and Arthur, before the five of them disappeared through their respective tap doors. Draco took a seat next to Tonks. Dumbledore smiled in greeting before clearing his throat.  
  
Mr. Malfoy, we're not going to keep you too long, due to the early departure of the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, he said. We don't have any instructions that are much different from the last vacation.  
  
Except be _extra_ careful, Draco, Snape warned. As far as I know, Lucius should be home the entire week. Do not act any differently than you normally would have had you not been a spy.  
  
From the expression on Draco's face, it seemed like he was going to make a sarcastic retort, but thought better of it and just nodded.  
  
The same rules apply about contacting us, Draco, McGonagall stated. If it isn't urgent, wait until you return to Hogwarts.  
  
Harry gave me Sirius's mirror, Remus quietly informed Draco. You can use that if you are positive that your father, or any other Death Eater, is not in the house.  
  
But only in that situation, Draco, Snape ordered strictly. Your father isn't stupid. Even if he is on the other side of the Manor, he can cast spells that show him what the other occupants of the house are doing.  
  
I know, Draco said. He bit his lip. But I highly doubt he would bother with casting those spells on his wife and son when he's quite busy arranging things for Voldemort.  
  
Snape gave him a pointed look. You never know. It's just a precaution. Do not try to contact us unless it is an emergency.  
  
Draco sighed and nodded. Well, let's say my father isn't around, and I have urgent information. What name do I give the mirror to activate it? he directed to Remus.  
  
The weary man smiled. You say Harry's because it is rightfully his. To activate your mirror, I would say Sirius's since it was his.  
  
And Malfoy, mind the rules Snape told you. I don't know how you got your last information without sneaking around, but whatever you did, don't do it again. Just wait for the information to come to you, Mad-Eye Moody instructed, his magical eye piercing through Draco. The blond stared indignantly back.  
  
I was extremely careful in obtaining my last information, sir, Draco said. I wasn't too eager and I asked very few questions. I may have sugared them up a bit, but they were impressed and told me what I wanted to know.  
  
Well, don't sugar your father up too much this time. He may become suspicious, Arthur Weasley said.  
  
I won't, Draco assured.  
  
Dumbledore peered at Draco from behind his crescent shaped spectacles. Now, as for your little story, Draco, Severus has been feeding Voldemort false information for the last few months. Just trivial things, like how he noticed I am gone a lot and that I call Harry into my office frequently. Little things to add to your story.  
  
Draco nodded. Should I tell my father more?  
  
Severus nodded at the blond. The last piece of information I told him dealt with Potter. I said how he was looking drained and exhausted and very pale. It makes the Dark Lord think the boy is becoming weaker, when in reality, he's training to become stronger.  
  
So I should elaborate on that? Draco asked.  
  
The members of the Order nodded solemnly.  
  
But don't get _too_ elaborate, Bill cautioned. You can't possibly notice that much change in someone that is supposed to be your enemy.  
  
Draco nodded as he absorbed all the information and directions. I can do it, he said once he had sorted it all out in his head.  
  
Moody rolled his magical eye. Good. And don't do anything stupid.  
  
I won't, Draco stated icily.  
  
And if you think you're in any danger whatsoever, you -  
  
Get myself out, Draco finished for Tonks. I know. That's like the Golden Rule. But I'm careful, so hopefully that will not be a problem.  
  
Tonks echoed.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. I think everything's settled then. Any questions, Draco?  
  
He shook his head. No, sir.  
  
Alright then, why don't you get to bed? Early morning tomorrow, Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
Draco nodded. Yes, sir. Good-night.  
  
Draco? Did you leave your robe in the dueling room, or did you just not wear one? Remus asked.  
  
Draco looked down. Oh. No, I had one on. It must be in the room. Be right back.  
  
He jogged toward the mirrored room. His fallen robe was in a pile beside the mirror. As he bent down to retrieve it, he heard footsteps behind him. He smiled at Tonks' reflection.  
  
Do you ever wear that thing? she giggled.  
  
Draco answered. Harry used a moisture spell before, and the robe was heavy because it was damp, so I just took it off.  
  
Tonks nodded her blue head. I see, she said, folding her arms over her chest. Draco, you will be careful right? she asked in worry.  
  
Draco fervently shook his head in the affirmative. Of course. I was last time.  
  
His cousin raised an eyebrow. Really? How exactly did you get that information last time? I tend to agree with Snape when he says that it is unlikely for three prominent Death Eaters to spill their entire plan to a sixteen year-old boy, even if he is a Death Eater also.  
  
It's unlikely, but not unheard of.  
  
  
  
He looked up at her. Are you going to tell the rest of the Order?  
  
Tonks sighed reluctantly, her azure eyes revealing that she should.   
  
Are you going to yell?  
  
  
  
Draco gave a weak grin. Harry lent me his Invisibility Cloak.  
  
Tonks's eyes widened. Are you nutters? And then you sat in the same room as your father and the Lestranges and heard every detail?  
  
Draco grinned.   
  
Tonks frowned and Draco's grin faltered. Draco! We said _not_ to go sneaking around for information. And yet, you did!  
  
They couldn't _see_ me, Tonks, Draco reasoned. I was fine. I'm here, aren't I?  
  
Tonks glared. Yes, but that was still a _very_ foolish thing to do. I could go out there right now and tell them you are not to go anywhere near that train tomorrow. If they knew -  
  
You _said_ you wouldn't tell. Besides, I'm not bringing the cloak this time, he lied. I thought about it, and it's just too dangerous with my father around. I was lucky last time that he was only there for two nights. I would have no explanation if he found out, since Invisibility Cloaks are so rare. So I told Harry not to bother.  
  
Tonks's glare mellowed a bit. Well, I'm glad you actually thought it over and decided against it. Honestly! It may have seemed like a brilliant idea, but there are so many more cons than pros. The simplest cough or moving of your foot could have given you away! If anything had -  
  
Draco put his hands on her shoulders. I'm fine, Tonks. I'm not doing it again. I'll be fine, I swear. He felt guilty lying to her, but how else was he supposed to get any information?  
  
Her gaze softened. Good. I'd be beside myself if anything happened to you. You're my favorite little cousin, you know that?  
  
He rolled his eyes. I'm your _only_ little cousin, Tonks.  
  
Makes you even more special, she grinned. Now you get to bed and _be extremely careful _at home, okay?  
  
I will, Draco promised for the umpteenth time.  
  
Tonks smiled and wound her arms around him in a tight hug. Draco smirked as she had to stand on her toes to reach.  
  
Not so little now, am I?  
  
She smacked his shoulder. Shut up. Enjoy vacation, alright?  
  
I'll try, he said, smirk faltering.  
  
Tonks loosened her grip to look at him. Someday, Lucius Malfoy will get what he deserves, I can assure you that. Then you'll be able to live happily ever after, okay?  
  
Draco nodded as she let go and stood flat on her feet again. Too bad it's not going to be that easy. If only life were a fairy tale, he said. Draco walked toward the door and surprised himself when he turned around and said, I love you, big cousin.  
  
Tonks smiled sadly. I love you too, little cousin.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~  
Yea, started out light-hearted, then turned out mushy - but I'm making up for the dark, abuse and hatred filled chapters ahead ::shudders:: Draco has to go home. My poor, poor baby....  



	23. Refusal To Fail

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot. And I just realized, every chapter I write at Malfoy Manor, I make up more house elves cause it's easier than checking previous chapters for house elf names, lol. Besides, the Malfoys probably have tons anyway.  
  
**A/N:** Wow, I suck. I truly, truly suck. 1 month and 16 days since my last update. Like I said, I suck, and I'm sorry. I do want to thank you all for being patient with me, and tell you not to worry - I AM **NOT** GIVING UP ON THIS STORY. Total opposite, actually. I've got so many different ways I can end this, so I'm still deciding on that. Okay, this is extra long, like I promised (almost 12 pages, size 10 font) and review if you'd like, even if it's only to tell me off for the long time in between updates, lol.  
  
Thank you very much for all the reviews, they have not gone unnoticed, even if the story has gone un-updated for a while, lol.  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 22: Refusal To Fail**  
  
Draco dropped his trunk on the marble floor of the Manor. Two house-elves hastily scurried in at the heavy thud and hastened to transport the trunk to his room. Removing his cloak and hanging it in the foyer closet, he walked into the main part of the Manor searching for other forms of human life. His father failed to meet him at the train station yet again. Draco doubted the Lestranges, or any other Death Eater for that matter, were currently visiting, due to the fact that the Manor wasn't cleaned or decorated in any grandiose display of arrogance and wealth. He continued scanning each room as he strode down one of the Manor's many corridors, but to both his disappointment and dread, found no one. He searched as much of the first floor as he could before his impatience exploded and he demanded to know his parents' whereabouts from the first house-elf he spotted.  
  
The last Mizzy heard, sir, Master and Mistress was upstairs, sir, the petite house-elf revealed.  
  
Draco scowled at the miserable creature before dismissing it and shooting for the stairs. The fact that both his parents were upstairs didn't bother him, but that they were _heard_ upstairs. Or, most likely, Lucius was heard. Draco felt the bile rising in his stomach as anger began to scorch his insides. Once he reached the second floor landing, he marched toward his mother's wing of the house. He heard a raised voice coming from her study, the room in which she read or stitched her time away. As he neared the door, his thoughts were taking a very dangerous edge; if he acted on any of them, he would surely land a cell in Azkaban.  
  
_Damn caution, damn the Order, damn my future, damn it all to hell! If he has one finger on her, I swear to Merlin I will rip him to bloody pieces...._  
  
He turned the brass doorknob and burst into the room. Whatever conversation or screaming that had been occurring quickly stopped. His startled mother was elegantly seated on her mauve loveseat, her shock subsiding as a small smile greeted the intruder. Lucius glared at Draco from his position next to one of the mahogany bookshelves where he was standing with his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
Have you no manners, just charging into the room like that? Knock next time, you insolent brat, he hissed.  
  
Draco said nothing and glared at his father while he glanced between his mother and father in scrutiny. Narcissa sensed his anger and implication from that single action, and quickly sought to relieve the building tension in the room  
  
Welcome home, Draco. How are you?  
  
Draco's gaze remained on his father. Hello, Mum. I'm okay, he answered. He broke eye contact with Lucius. How are _you_?   
  
The pale woman detected her husband's stiffened form. Oh, I'm fine, she said airily. Your father and I were just discussing the events of this week, and I -  
  
We were not _discussing_, Lucius sneered. I was merely_ informing_ you, Narcissa. There was nothing to discuss, he said coldly, striding toward Draco. I want to speak with you in my study now, Draco.  
  
As soon as he passed Draco, the teen made a move to rush over to his mother, but a strong hand snaked out and prevented him.  
  
I believe I said _now_.  
  
Glaring at one parent, and sending an apologetic glance of concern at the other, Draco was dragged out of the room. He spent the tense journey downstairs to Lucius's study calming himself down. He wasn't sure where the confidence to confront his father with such mutinous glares came from, but he knew it had to return soon. His father would suspect something odd, and he didn't need any suspicions at such a crucial time. By the time the pair reached Lucius's study, Draco recovered his regular impassive countenance again. Upon being ordered to, he took a seat in a high-backed velvet clad seat. His father sat down in a dignified manner in his seat, and Draco stared at his hands while he waited for his father to speak.  
  
I do not appreciate your attitude, Draco.  
  
I apologize, Father, Draco said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.  
  
Lucius rested his chin in his hand and stared at the fire. Hmm, I'm sure you do. How are your grades?  
  
Draco cringed at what he had to say. The truth always hurt. Literally. But it was better than lies, which would hurt even more.  
  
I'm doing well in all my classes. My transfiguration grade isn't as high as it should be, but I'm working to improve it.  
  
Lucius slightly turned his head. Well work hard, he ordered, or you'll be punished. I assume the mudblood's doing better than you?  
  
Draco swallowed hard. Yes. But it's not my fau-  
  
_Smack._ Draco turned his head away and rubbed his sore cheek as he felt Lucius's angry glare.  
  
Don't finish that sentence, you piece of filth. It most definitely _is_ your fault for being lazy. I have told you for the last six years that I will not settle for second best, and yet that's all you are. It's despicable that a mudblood is doing better than a pureblooded wizard - _especially_ a Malfoy - in anything, _particularly _in intelligence.  
  
I know, Father, Draco said, restraining his temper, although he was sure his eyes were blazing with fury.  
  
And what about Quidditch? Potter still beating you at that too?  
  
Draco nodded meekly as he received another blow to the face. This one cut his lip. As he wiped the blood away, he looked up at his father.  
  
But I reckon, given time, he'll eventually mess up in Quidditch too, he commented casually.  
  
Lucius raised an eyebrow. What do you mean by that? _Too_? he asked, curiosity evident by fact that he didn't strike Draco.  
  
Draco shrugged. Well, I noticed he's a lot paler and quiet. He's lost a lot of that stupid Gryffindor bravery and boldness. He zones out a lot, especially in Potions. Professor Snape has a field day tormenting the git, he smirked.  
  
Lucius nodded, processing the information. Really? That's...interesting. Did you notice anything else?  
  
Draco thought for a moment. Well, I've heard his grades are quite poor, even with the mudblood's assistance, he lied easily. He actually felt bad calling Hermione a mudblood, but he had to successfully play his father for a fool.  
  
The edges of the elder blond's mouth curled into a cruel smile. Why, that's perfect, he murmured. The Lord will be pleased to hear that the boy isn't handling the events of last year well. Not at all.  
  
Draco nodded, expecting some kind appreciative remark. Yet again he overestimated his father.  
  
Well, I shall be sure to inform the Dark Lord of this news. Did you overhear anything more about these meetings you mentioned?  
  
Draco shook his head. Not recently.  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes and stared into the fire. Lot of good you are.  
  
Draco glared at the fire also, in silent fuming. He had to concentrate to restrain himself. Funny; he had never been barely able to contain his anger before. He had always succeeded at being the personification of ice. Until now. He inhaled deeply to calm himself and drilled into his head that his father's insults and abuse would not bother him.  
  
Lucius turned his head to watch his son. He did not like this unusual display of rash behavior, and especially did not like the accusatory attitude he exhibited in previous moments. Damn Narcissa. He was too attached to her. Something would have to be done about that.  
  
I _really_ do not appreciate your attitude and behavior, Draco. How dare you look at me in the way you did before? I am your father; you do not treat me in that manner, he berated, glaring at Draco coldly.  
  
Draco glanced at him, blue eyes somewhat mocking. I apologized already, Father.  
  
With that, Lucius stood abruptly and grabbed the younger Malfoy by the collar. Who the hell do you think you are? Don't you dare use that tone with me you stupid son of a bitch! A punch to the jaw. I will repeat: I am your father, and you are to treat me with the utmost respect. You do as I say, and as I want, do you hear me?? he reprimanded cruelly with a kick in the shin.  
  
Draco gasped in pain. I'm sorry.  
  
You should and better be. This attitude better disappear as quickly as it came, bitch, the older man hissed.  
  
It- it will! I w-won't be disrespectful a-again, Draco spluttered as stars danced around his head.  
  
Lucius Malfoy spat, sending his son to the floor with an angry fist to the stomach. Now go to your room, I am going to go out soon. He glared at his son in disgust. I mean it about the attitude, Draco. It better be gone as soon as possible, or Thursday will not be pleasant for you.  
  
Standing up shakily and clutching his stomach, Draco asked weakly. What's Thursday?  
  
The Lord wants to resume the magnificent raids of the past, starting in Potter's town of Surrey. I believe his little mudblood lives there, Lucius responded, an evil smile forming on his lips. You will be prepared, for you will be joining us. Your Mark will glow for the first time, since you are not currently residing in the school. You know where our robes are, do you not?  
  
His breathing steady, Draco nodded eagerly to hide his shock. They planned to attack Harry's friends, probably in the hopes that he would be further depressed' and weakened. He had to contact the Order, or else Hermione was in great danger. He had also secretly hoped he would never have to embark on a raid and mercilessly murder innocent people. And he heard that the glow of the Dark Mark burned pure torture into the arm until one answered to Voldemort's call.  
  
Lucius stated. His eyes narrowed.  
  
You better not disappoint me, Draco. There will be no refusals; you are to do what the Dark Lord orders. You are already enough of a failure - do not blunder this either. I can assure you, he said in a low voice, that if your performance is not satisfactory to the Lord, he will torture you.  
  
Draco bit his lip to keep from making any sarcastic retorts and nodded to show his comprehension. His father guided him toward the door and opened it. However, before shoving him into the corridor, he leaned in to Draco's ear, and hissed,  
  
Stop trying to protect her, Draco. She will be your downfall. Mark my words. _She will be your downfall._  
  
It's a good thing Lucius shoved him to the ground and slammed the door, or else his face would have met with Draco's fist.  
  
Draco glared menacingly at the door for a few minutes, repressing all desires of just blasting the damn thing open and ruthlessly strangling the evil man behind it. Shaking his head, he turned and marched angrily down the corridor, his shin aching, and ascended the grand staircase. However, at the sound of the study door being opened, he paused on the landing and listened.  
  
I am going out for a few hours. I want the fire in my chamber lit as soon as I enter the manor, he commanded coldly.  
  
Yes, sir, Kimbo will do's that, sir.  
  
Lucius declared as he buttoned his silk cloak. Because I will probably not be coherent enough to order you then, he muttered under his breath, smirking.  
  
Above him, an identical smirk graced his son's face.  
  
As soon as the door clicked shut, Draco raced down corridors and turned down many different halls until he entered his wing of the manor. His father was out, so there would be no problem contacting the Order. Before he could complete his duty, the same house elf from before stopped him.  
  
Young Master Malfoy! it squeaked, trying to keep up with his long gait. Draco turned and glared at the creature in irritation.  
  
he snapped.  
  
The little elf trembled, but stood her ground. Mistress tolds Mizzy to tell Young Master to visit her when he had a chance, sir.  
  
Draco sighed, remembering his mother. Fine, thank you, he muttered and changed his direction. He figured he had several hours anyway. He quickly performed a spell to heal his bloody lip so his mother wouldn't have to see it.  
  
Entering his mother's study, he found her stitching a very delicate fabric. He smiled when she glanced up at him, but she only frowned.  
  
Uh, hi Mum, he greeted uncertainly.  
  
Where is your father? she asked, her tone firm and business-like.  
  
He went out, Draco answered dryly.  
  
Narcissa nodded and gently placed her needlework on the table next to her and then folded her hands in her lap.  
  
she started, looking at him with stern blue eyes, your behavior before was unnecessary. Actually, it was downright dangerous! He could have gotten suspicious or angry. Either way, his reaction would have been awful. He might have hurt one or both of us. _You_ could get discovered, she scolded in a hushed voice.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. I _know_, Mum. I realized afterwards that my behavior was too aggressive, so I calmed down. Relax, I won't get caught, okay?  
  
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. Well, you can never be too careful, she sniffed. She shook her head. I don't know about this whole thing anymore, Draco. It makes me too worried, maybe it would have been safer to -  
  
Mum, it was the only way, Draco interrupted with an edge of irritation. You heard Professor Snape yourself - there were no other options.  
  
Narcissa still looked doubtful. Yes, but still, perhaps -  
  
No, Mum, no. There was no other course of action to take. This was it, Draco declared. He walked over to his mother's seat and clasped her hands with his.  
  
Mum, I swear I'm fine. Yes, this is highly dangerous, but it was a risk we both knew and accepted anyway. I also promised to get myself out of any situations that threatened my life, Draco reminded her. A small fact that nobody seems to believe, he muttered.  
  
Harry's words echoed in his head, but he shook them away. So what if his gauge of danger wasn't up to par with the Order's? He wasn't going to run crying because his father hit him, but he had enough sense to leave if someone pointed a wand at him and started to say   
  
Oh, and who would nobody' be? his mother asked curiously.  
  
Draco released her hands and threw his own in the air in exasperation. Oh, just _everybody_. The whole damn group finds it necessary to remind me forty-two times during the meetings I attend, he ranted. Especially Tonks. And then even Harry started on me. What, just because I'm a Slytherin, means I won't keep my word?  
  
Narcissa blinked and a small comforting smile graced her face. Glad to get that off of your chest?  
  
Draco crossed his arms. No, because it wasn't on my chest to begin with, he snapped tartly.  
  
Do they just not trust me? he asked his mother.  
  
No, sweetheart, Narcissa answered warmly. They just want what's best for you. They don't want you enduring threats or the like for the sake of the Order. They don't expect that from you.  
  
Draco pursed his lips and focused on the floor. But I've - _we've_ - endured threats and abuse even before I became involved with them. It's nothing new.  
  
Narcissa's smile fell. While that may be true, there's a lot more at stake here. Not only our lives, but the lives of the group themselves, not to mention the rest of the world since protecting both the magical and muggle worlds is their focus.  
  
Draco huffed indignantly, they - you- could give me the benefit of the doubt. I know what I'm doing.  
  
I'm glad you're confident, Draco, but don't become too confident. It's okay to ask for help or admit you can't handle a situation. You don't have to be strong all the time, honey, Narcissa soothed. No one will think you're a failure.  
  
Draco nodded, all traces of anger slowly fading and hints of pensive thinking replacing it. He lifted his head and smiled wistfully. He sighed heavily. Narcissa smiled back at him and motioned for a hug, which Draco returned willingly.  
  
I love you, sweetheart, Narcissa murmured, kissing the side of his head.  
  
Love you too, Mum, Draco replied.  
  
Narcissa smoothed back his hair. Why don't you take some time to unwind and we'll talk about school and everything sometime tomorrow?  
  
The blond nodded. Okay. I am a bit tired.  
  
Draco let go of his mother and walked toward the door. Narcissa resumed her stitching, concentrating on not tearing the fabric.  
  
See you tomorrow, Mum.  
  
Bye, Draco.  
  
Draco casually strolled to his room deep in thought. Between his mother and Harry, everything he had ever been taught was being contradicted. Since he was three, he had been told that Malfoys were the cream of the crop and should act like it. And so that was what he had spent most of his life doing. He pushed his way around, insulted those who were believed to be inferior, and always got what he wanted. He showed no weakness, for Malfoys were strong wizards who did not have faults. They were perfect beings, so they should always be number one. Draco had never successfully passed that section, as he was constantly reminded. And now he was being informed that none of that was true; that he didn't have to think, reason, or operate in the ways that he did.   
  
_Don't be too proud to come back here.It's okay to ask for help or admit you can't handle a situation.We both need to realize that always acting strong and independent isn't necessarily a good thing.No one will think you're a failure._  
  
_No one will think I'm a failure, because I _won't_ be a failure_, he vowed. _I refuse to fail. No matter what.  
_  
  
He entered his room and closed the door, locking it. He knelt down by his empty trunk and said the password to open his secret cubby. After it opened, he fluidly pulled out Sirius Black's mirror and climbed onto his bed with the curtains closed.  
  
he whispered. Pausing, he then said, Harry Potter.  
  
The mirror shimmered brilliantly before Draco could see a dimly lit room. Well, actually, he could see a ceiling with frequent small flickers of light that suggested a candle lit room. He could also see a small reflection of himself, so he assumed Harry's mirror was near another mirror. It was most probably on a dresser of some sort.  
  
he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Receiving no answer, he called again in a louder voice. Hello? Remus?  
  
He heard shuffling in the background and the room tilted as someone lifted the mirror. Instead of Remus, however, Draco saw someone else.  
  
Professor Snape?  
  
The Potions Master rolled his eyes. Yes, Draco, how astute of you. Lupin is experiencing symptoms of his transformation and asked if I would guard the mirror in case he couldn't answer if you called. Are you alone?  
  
Draco nodded. Yes, Professor. My father is out somewhere getting himself drunk off his arse, so there would be no worries even he were here. He wouldn't remember a thing.  
  
Snape glared. Don't ever attempt contacting us in that situation. It's still too risky. Now what do you have to tell me?  
  
I don't know if you already know, but raids are starting again on Thursday.  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. Raids? No, I didn't know. The Dark Lord doesn't usually tell us ahead of time; he would normally just call us and we would come and do his bidding. Did your father tell you this directly?  
  
Draco answered, carefully choosing his next words, He told me I would be joining you, and that I better be prepared.  
  
Snape nodded, eyebrows furrowed together. That is strange, he murmured. He paused and then inquired, Did you tell him anything about Potter?  
  
Yea, just that he was looking paler, zones out a lot, and that I heard his grades were dropping. He said he would inform the Dark Lord.  
  
Good, that should tide them over for a bit. Do you know where the raids are going to take place?  
  
Surrey my father said.  
  
Snape frowned. Well that's pointless; Potter isn't even there right now.  
  
No, but Hermione is. I think the plan is to attack and kill each of Harry's friends in order to weaken him more. The Dark Lord doesn't want a fair fight; he wants as many advantages as possible.  
  
Well, of course Draco, that makes sense. Anyone would want advantages in a fight that might culminate in his or her death.  
  
True, but don't you - Draco froze as the sound of heavy footsteps approaching his room reached his ears.  
  
Oh shit, he's home!  
  
As the footsteps stopped at his door, he shoved the mirror under his sheets. He trusted Professor Snape intelligent enough to stay silent. His doorknob twisted violently before angry fists began pounding on the door.  
  
Open the bloody door, you damn prat! a drunken voice yelled.  
  
Draco leaped off his bed and reluctantly unlocked the door, knowing that it would be far worse to keep his father locked out.  
  
he gasped. I apologize for locking you out, I thought -  
  
_Smack. Shove._ Draco tried to break his fall with no luck, and slowly lifted his head to meet his father's unfocused gaze.  
  
Get up, bitch, Lucius slurred.  
  
Draco scrambled to his feet and stood tall in front of his father, cheek still stinging.  
  
Why did you lock me out, Draco? What were you doing?  
  
Draco eyed his father cautiously. I was trying to sleep, but you know the house elves. They come in when they think I want something, when all I want is to be left alone.  
  
Lucius paced the room in front of his son, and continued to speak, ignoring Draco's reply.  
  
I bet you were doing something bad. Something I wasn't supposed to see, huh? Yes, I bet that's what you were doing.  
  
Draco tensed. I already said I had been trying to sleep, Father.  
  
Lucius stopped pacing and stared at Draco. You know what, Draco? I don't think I like this attitude of yours. It's very mocking, and you act better than me. You're not better than me. Never have been, never will. No, never.  
  
Draco knew to just agree with his father, so this confrontation would be over with sooner. Yes, Father.  
  
You know why you'll never be better than me?  
  
Draco stared back and didn't reply.  
  
You want to know why? I'll tell you why. You're too damn attached to your mother. I really don't like that. No, not at all. Something will have to be done, you hear? Something.  
  
Draco's stare turned into a defensive glare. Don't touch her, he spoke in a low, steady voice.  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes and let out a derisive, drunken laugh. See what I mean? Too bloody attached.  
  
He continued laughing. Once the laughter died down, he glanced at his son's stoic stance.  
  
I thought I told you _not_ to order me around. I am your father; you do as **I** say.  
  
Draco's glare never wavered. Yes, Father.  
  
The elder Malfoy took a step closer. Wipe that glare off your face, you damn son of a bitch. I will not tolerate this attitude along with your other faults.  
  
Draco lowered his eyes to the ground, so as not to provoke the man any more.  
  
YOU WILL LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU! Lucius screamed, violently grabbing Draco's chin and yanking it upwards.  
  
Draco attempted to keep his face emotionless, but his eyes held defiance. This only agitated his father more.  
  
You stupid son of a bitch, he hissed, removing his hand from Draco's chin and backhanding him across the face.  
  
How dare you stand there and mock me, after all I have done for you the past sixteen years.  
  
A punch to the shoulder sent Draco wincing into the dresser that stood directly behind him. He instantly placed a hand there to rub the throbbing pain.  
  
I wasn't mocking you, I swear, I wa-  
  
Another blow, this one administered to his face, left Draco with a bloody fat lip. He lifted his other hand to try and wipe away the coppery blood, but too much was gushing out of his bottom lip.  
  
Don't you DARE talk back to me, you bastard, Lucius ordered furiously. This will end, Draco. This behavior of yours. I will make sure of it.  
  
He kneed Draco in the stomach, which caused the boy's body to bang into the wood behind him, before he turned and stumbled toward the door and slammed it as he exited. Draco clutched his stomach as he slumped to the ground to catch his breath. Once he was able to breathe in somewhat normally, he pulled out his wand and summoned an ice pack. He hoped it hit his father on the way.  
  
His ice pack arrived almost immediately, and Draco limped toward his bed, his back sore from being shoved viciously into the dresser. He opened the curtain and pulled back the sheets to find Professor Snape still staring up at him. This time, however, his black eyes glistened with concern, and disgust.  
  
Bloody hell, he whispered. Are you alright?  
  
I'm fine, Draco assured, summoning a larger ice pack for his shoulder. I'll be okay, really.  
  
Snape eyed him suspiciously. If you are certain.  
  
I am, Draco said shortly.  
  
If he tries anything else, remember, you can get yourself out, Draco.  
  
Professor, I'm fine, Draco insisted. That's normal.  
  
Snape asked, disgusted.  
  
Draco shrugged, a scowl on his face. Welcome to my life, Professor.  
  



	24. Preparation

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** I am truly sorry, I'm not gonna bother with excuses; let's just leave it at the fact that I suck. But thank you so much for all your sweet and eager reviews - I feel so honored. This story shouldn't be too much longer - my estimations say 5 more chapters, give or take. ::sniff:: Enjoy the chapter, I'll try to update before I see POA at 12:01 am on June 4th, but I can't - I won't - guarantee anything. Please enjoy the chappie :)  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 23: Preparation**  
  
The next day, Draco was summoned to his father's office to for the raid on Thursday. It was of utmost importance that his performance was perfect; not because Lucius wanted to prevent pain for his son, but prevent his own humiliation and shame.  
  
Joining Draco and Lucius that day was a tiny little house elf called Posey. Draco pitied the pathetic creature, but at least it wasn't a human he had to practice putting under the Imperious Curse. As the trembling creature stood meekly between father and son, Lucius raised an eyebrow at Draco.  
  
Well, go on already. I haven't got all day.  
  
Draco drew a deep breath and pointed his wand.  
  
  
  
A bright blue blaze shot from his wand to the house elf, and immediately, its eyes glazed over. Its stance was loose as it awaited Draco's command.  
  
Tell it to tug violently at its overgrown ears.  
  
Draco nodded and ordered the house elf, Tug violently at your ears.  
  
It did so obediently, and Draco had to marvel at the surge of power he felt at the action. The house elf was in his total control. He understood in a clearer light the appeal of the Dark Lord's cause. Who wouldn't want to feel this power, this control? Draco snapped back to the present.  
  
Lucius smirked. Tell it to repeatedly slam its head into the fireplace wall.  
  
Draco glanced at the brick fireplace. Go slam your head repeatedly into the fireplace wall, he commanded.  
  
The house elf practically floated over to the fireplace and began to slam its head continuously into the bricks. Draco stared in disbelief and concentrated on steadying his wand. To think that they commanded human beings to do horrible things like this shook the joy of power right out of Draco's veins. Lucius had the audacity to laugh when cuts and bruises formed on the house elf's head. Draco forced a smirk.  
  
Now you make it do something, Lucius demanded.  
  
_Let's see_, Draco thought, perusing the room around him. _What cruel and inhumane thing can I pull out of my arse?_   
  
Hit yourself on the forehead with the fire poker.  
  
The house elf swayed uneasily from its place in front of the fireplace to the side where the tools to handle the fire were stored. It began to poke itself with the poker, creating new cuts on its head. After about a minute, Lucius sighed.  
  
You are not cruel enough, Draco. That better change. Remove the curse.  
  
Draco nodded and did what was requested of him. The house elf collapsed to the ground, weak and trembling. A series of cuts and bruises bedecked its head, sticky rivers of blood flowing from the deeper ones. Lucius eyed the creature in disgust before levitating it and banishing it out the door. Then he faced his son.  
  
Draco, I want you to review the ideas and commands outlined in _The History of the Imperious_ that I bought you last year. Take a good look, would you, for you are to use harsher orders than what I observed today. Do you understand?  
  
Yes, Father, Draco replied, mentally sighing. That book was extremely graphic, even for his liking; but he would pull it off the shelf to appear like he read through it again.  
  
Lucius nodded and then motioned the office doors with his cane. Good, now leave. I have more important matters to address than wasting my time watching your weak attempts at dark magic.  
  
Draco suppressed a glare and wordlessly approached the door. Lucius followed behind him, striding regally. The younger Malfoy exited as the elder watched him aim for the stairs.  
  
Draco, study hard. My warnings are to be taken seriously, young man. The Dark Lord will hurt you if you are in any way displeasing to him.  
  
The young blond turned and eyed his father. Yes, I am aware, Father. I will be sure to review that novel at once.  
  
Lucius nodded and Draco disappeared up the stairs. Lucius turned in the general direction of the kitchen area of the manor.   
  
Gubby! Get your filthy arse here right now, he called.  
  
Tiny feet could be heard scurrying toward the study door.  
  
Yes, Master, Gubby is here, sir. Whats can Gubby gets for sir? the little elf asked, trembling easily detected in his voice.  
  
I want a glass of my fine Italian vodka, mixed with nothing else. Get it, and get it here quick you stupid creature, for I have an important appointment, he ordered arrogantly.  
  
By the time Gubby returned with Lucius's drink, the elder Malfoy was seated in his high-backed chair, facing the fireplace. Instead of his expensive silk robe and tailored suit, he now wore a long, plain black hooded robe.   
  
Place the drink on the table at my right and then get out, he barked from underneath a mask, drumming his pale fingers on the aforementioned table.  
  
He listened as the pathetic elf did as told as quickly as possible. The crystal glass barely touched the wooden surface before Lucius had snatched it and began sipping it slowly. It would be a disgrace if he were drunk for this meeting with this particular visitor. He listened as the house elf hastily scurried toward the door. He slammed his glass on the table when it fell and landed flat on its arse with a loud thump. He turned to glare at the creature; unfortunately, it couldn't be seen under the intimidating mask.   
  
Get up you clumsy piece of shit, and get your pitiful arse out of here now. See to it that nobody interrupts my meeting. If they do, assure them that they will hear from me.  
  
Rubbing its bottom, the house elf nodded. Yes, Master Malfoy. Gubby will sees to it, sir. He nervously scrambled out of the room, closing the door behind it with an ominous click.  
  
Moments later, the fire in front of Lucius roared and the gaunt face of Lord Voldemort appeared within its flames. Lucius knelt on the floor in reverence and bowed, whispering, Welcome, my Lord.  
  
Good evening, Lucius, the Dark Lord greeted indifferently. Sit, as we have many matters to discuss and I do not feel it appropriate to speak to the crown of your head.  
  
Yes, my Lord. Thank you, Lucius murmured, picking himself up and stiffly sitting down in his armchair.  
  
The blond man respectfully lifted his head slowly to look at his master. Voldemort nodded and began the conversation.  
  
Young Draco has come home, I presume?  
  
Yes, Master, he arrived yesterday.  
  
Voldemort looked to the ceiling, in a pensive manner. Mmm, has he any more information on Potter and his friends?  
  
Lucius nodded his head somewhat eagerly. Not on Potter and his friends, my Lord, Voldemort's face twisted into a sour scowl, but on Potter alone.  
  
Voldemort's eyebrow raised in interest. That's good, very good. Has he further weakened from what Severus told us last?  
  
Yes, Lord. His grades are slipping, even with that little mudblood spoon-feeding him. According to Draco, he is paler and quieter, and seems to have lost that bloody brazenness he's known to act upon. He zones out, and Severus has been adamant about torturing and punishing him.  
  
The thin line that was Voldemort's mouth curled upward into an evil sneer. Perfect. The boy is falling into quite a depression, no doubt due to the events of last year, he analyzed proudly. Whatever shall the wizarding world do if their beloved hero isn't able to save them all? he mocked. Which, I can promise you, he won't.  
  
Lucius nodded his head, and one could imagine the confident smirk present under the mask.  
  
Of course not, my Lord. The world doesn't stand a chance against you.  
  
Voldemort nodded in satisfaction as he reveled in the idea of future victory. Growing serious once again, he changed the topic.  
  
Raiding will begin on Thursday at 10:00 p.m. in Surrey, as planned, Lucius. We'll be able to surprise many people. They won't be expecting it, and all will die in their beds.  
  
Sounds wonderful, my Lord, Lucius purred.  
  
The Dark Lord peered at one of his most trusted followers with his hollow red eyes. Young Malfoy _is_ ready, correct, Lucius?  
  
Of course, my Lord, Lucius answered. He knows what is expected and the consequences if he does not meet your standards.   
  
He paused, but not out of hesitation. It produced more of a sinister effect than anything else.  
  
Do not worry, my Master. He will be prepared.  
  
Voldemort smirked in satisfaction.   
  
The red eyes scanned the room. You are positive you are alone, Lucius?  
  
Yes, Master. My wife and son are upstairs in their respective rooms. I am completely alone.  
  
The Dark Lord once again scrutinized the room, his blood red eyes lingering on a spot beyond Lucius's chair. His thin eyebrows furrowed together as he peered skeptically at the wall. Lucius shifted in his seat to see what his master was bothered about, but he saw nothing but the dark wall. He raised an eyebrow in confusion and slight worry, and turned to face Voldemort again.  
  
Would you like me to cast a scanning spell, my Lord?  
  
Voldemort frowned and his eyes darted around suspiciously one last time. No, that is unnecessary. I know you would not lie to me.  
  
Lucius bowed his head at the admission of trust.  
  
Voldemort's eyes returned to rest on his servant.  
  
Now, Lucius, what we are about to discuss is not to leave this room. Do not even discuss it with the Lestranges unless I summon you all, and we are in a safe, private location. You never know who is listening, he instructed, covertly scanning the study again before continuing.  
  
I have conceived of another ploy to destroy Harry Potter once and for all. He will not be able to triumph this time.  
  
The black hood of Lucius Malfoy's robe bobbed forward. That is marvelous, my Lord. I will do whatever you request of me to ensure that this arrangement goes according to plan.  
  
I know you will, Lucius, thank you, the Dark Lord nodded. This time, it _will_ go according to plan. Speaking of plans, was it ever discovered how my January plan was foiled?  
  
Lucius slowly shook his head. Unfortunately, my Lord, we cannot figure out how the information leaked. We are working on it, my Lord.  
  
Well, hurry. I want to personally torture the bastard that ruined my work.  
  
Of course, my Lord.  
  
Voldemort smirked. This next plan will shock all, Lucius. Raids will persist weekly, to scare both the wizarding and muggle worlds, to prove my power. No muggle town will be safe. Ahh, but tell me, Lucius, where is the one place that the wizarding world believes is safe?  
  
Lucius frowned under his mask. Many are under the impression that Hogwarts is a safe haven, my Lord.  
  
Voldemort's thin lips twisted into a malevolent smile. Precisely. They believe that as long as that pathetic boy and that crackpot old headmaster are there, it is safe. That is where we will attack.  
  
Brilliant, my Lord.  
  
I know. The attack will come at the end of May, on the last day of the month. By that time, news of our raids will have become normal occurrences. People, the students especially, will not be as defensive and on guard as they will be at the commencement of our raids. The students will also be busy preparing for final exams, making them even less wary.  
  
Very true, my Lord.  
  
Most people will not be prepared for such a blow so soon after the raids start. Potter and Dumbledore will not have time to plan a defense; they shall fall to me. This time, Potter will not win.  
  
My Lord, he has no chance.  
  
Voldemort sneered. He doesn't. What's better, Lucius, is that at Hogwarts, I will have the extra effort of your son and his fellow Slytherins on my side along with you Death Eaters. The only people that remain to defend the school are the students of the other three pathetic houses, and the faculty. The odds of them winning are slim.  
  
Not slim, my Lord. Nonexistent, Lucius flattered.  
  
The Dark Lord nodded in appreciation. How correct you are, Lucius, how correct. Especially since we will arrive at Hogwarts before dawn; I doubt many students will have the chance to wake before we blast through the building and kill them all.  
  
Imagine, my Lord, Lucius began, all the little slain Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors in their beds.  
  
Such a shame, isn't it? Voldemort mocked, he and Lucius both erupting into malicious laughter.  
  
It's brilliant, my Lord, positively brilliant. Harry Potter will meet his downfall for sure, Lucius stated.  
  
Voldemort nodded. Of course. Now I must go. I need to contact Bella and Donovan to inform them of my plan. Make sure your son is prepared for Thursday. And remember - do not breathe a word of this plan to anyone, Lucius. No one.  
  
Lucius rose from his seat and kneeled at the floor, bowing his cloaked head toward the bust of his master in the flames.  
  
I understand, my Lord. Not a word, he murmured.  
  
With that, the vindictive sneering face of Lord Voldemort vanished from the fireplace.  
  
Lucius stood and removed his black robe and mask. Stating the password, he folded the robe and neatly placed both it and the mask in the section of bricks that swung open to reveal the hiding spot. He closed it, and stalked over to where his drink sat abandoned on the table beside his chair. He smirked as he picked up the half empty glass and threw back the rest of its contents. He left the room with more of a confident stride than usual and shoved the glass into the hands of the first house elf he laid eyes on, and proceeded to journey the route toward his bedroom.  
  
A pair of eyes followed him, filled with determination. They watched - glared - at the man until he disappeared up the staircase.  
  
I wouldn't be so confident if I were you, you arrogant bastard, the air whispered.   
  
It will be your downfall. Mark my words. It _will_ be your downfall, the air mocked.  
  
**A/N#2:** Yea, review if you want; tell me off if you want; do whatever you want. And make sure you Americans have a few blank tapes handy, cause Daniel Radcliffe is gonna be on quite a few shows this coming week :)


	25. Hatred

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Greetings! I know it's been one month and one day since I last updated, and a while since POA came out, but I said I wouldn't guarantee anything, so don't be too angry. Save the anger...for later. Anyway, this is THE chapter to read. I've planned and replanned this to perfection. I won't say enjoy it, because...er, just read the damn chapter. You'll see.  
  
I believe someone asked why Draco could use magic while not at school. (If someone didn't, and I'm just imagining someone did, I'm sure some of you have wondered, so I'll put your minds to rest anyway) Draco is able to do magic at Malfoy Manor. With all the dark magic the Malfoy family has been involved with throughout the generations, I'm sure the place's magic is somehow untraceable, so that's how Draco is able to do it. (Did I get untraceable magic from canon? I can't even remember, that's how much fan fic I read)  
  
And, as usual, thank you so much for all your reviews!! I love you all!! I'm going to TRY to update as soon as possible, try' being the key word there. But who knows, maybe I'll surprise you all and update...tomorrow?? (Yea, okay...)  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 24: Hatred**  
  
Draco examined the room he now occupied. He recognized it as his childhood nursery; smaller, but filled with tall windows to let in a large amount of sunlight. No one had entered this room since his early years. Instead of the dusty and forlorn appearance one would think a dozen years of abandonment would produce, the room looked as if it was still being utilized at that very moment. In fact, as Draco turned his head away from the window's view of the starry night sky, he saw that his old crib indeed held a young child. Upon closer inspection, he realized the child had a head of dark hair, and thus was not himself. The moonlight illuminated the young child's skin and its peaceful sleeping form, a small thumb gradually falling out of a drool-filled mouth. Draco tried to understand who this child was and what it was doing in _his_ old nursery, but could make no sense of the situation. Suddenly, unfamiliar voices rang out down the hall. Laced with fear and panic, and escalating in volume, the voices woke the young boy in Draco's crib. Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He knew those eyes.  
  
A young woman who closely resembled Ginny Weasley burst into the room, and her little boy climbed to his feet in Draco's crib to greet her. She was a petite woman with fair features, and she hurriedly picked up the boy in her trembling arms and held him close to her. A young man's voice yelled to her.  
  
Quick, Lily! They're here, I'll distract them. Take Harry and get out!  
  
A door on a lower floor was blasted open and the sounds of a scuffle ensued. A bright green light filled Draco's vision, and all indications of the scuffle abruptly ended. The woman gasped and a pained whisper escaped her lips as tears filled bright green eyes identical to her son's.  
  
  
  
With Harry still in arms, she rushed to close the door. Heavy footsteps could be heard ascending the stairs. Before the woman had the chance to escape, Draco's nursery door was blast open. She shrieked and ran past Draco to the far corner of the room, sinking down to her knees and clutching Harry close. Draco watched her as the looming shadow of a hooded figure drew near.  
  
Please, not Harry. Take me, don't hurt Harry. Don't kill my baby, she whimpered. Little Harry began to cry and buried his face in her tresses of red hair. She gently caressed his unruly black hair.  
  
Move away, silly girl, a cold voice ordered.  
  
Draco froze. He knew that voice.  
  
He watched as neither the man nor young woman did anything. Growing impatient, Draco tried to nudge Harry's mother to get her to leave while there was still time to escape. At first his hand went right through her.  
  
Come on, he urged. You can still leave.  
  
She lifted her head to stare at the man in front of her, unaware of Draco's presence.  
  
Don't hurt him, please. Take me instead. Take me! her hoarse voice pleaded. Not him, take me. Please.  
  
The man let out a harsh laugh and raised his wand, the tip aimed directly at her forehead.  
  
Draco tried to nudge her again, and this time his hand did not pass through her completely. He furrowed his eyebrows. As his nudging continued, her shoulder became more solid. Shocked, Draco pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. She continued to whimper and plead, her voice undergoing an odd change not entirely unpleasant; it just developed into a different voice altogether.  
  
Not my baby, please. Don't hurt him, he doesn't deserve this. Take me instead.  
  
Draco's eyes widened as her luminous red hair slowly evolved into a golden honey and her skin to hue a few degrees paler. The few light freckles that were sprinkled across her cheeks and her small nose disappeared. Her entire body seemed to become a fraction more fragile, and the small hand that had been stroking Harry's head became long and slender with neatly manicured nails. Draco watched in horrified recognition as Harry's unruly black curls transformed into straight silky blond strands that he knew all too well.  
  
The man began the first word to the fatal curse.  
  
Lily Potter's vivid green eyes faded to a pale blue with which Draco was quite familiar.  
  
Take me! Please! Don't take my baby. Don't take my Draco.  
  
There was a brilliant green flash and malicious laughter, and Draco woke up in a heavy sweat.  
  
Later that morning, at a more decent hour, Draco sat on his balcony in his pajamas overlooking the Malfoy estate. A wooden easel stood tall next to him as he watched the morning sun spread its warm beams over the hills and the tree tops and the prized Malfoy rose garden. The irritating noise of birds chirping reached his ears as he swiftly swept his paintbrush all over the crisp white canvas. He bit his lip in concentration. A loud knock at his door startled him and, mumbling something, he rose out of his seat to answer the visitor.  
  
After closing the door rudely on the house elf, Draco retrieved his wand and muttering a few spells, he was quickly dressed in a pair of pants and a shirt and his hair looked neater. Opening his closet, he slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed a robe to wear over his clothes. Glancing at the balcony, he dragged the easel and canvas inside his room. The weather may be pleasant now, but who knows what could happen later. Checking himself once more in his full length mirror, he headed downstairs for breakfast where his presence was requested by his parents.  
  
He formally greeted both his parents and sat down as food began to appear on their plates. He received a reply from his mother, but none from Lucius who had his head stuck in the Daily Prophet. Draco drank his coffee and silently speared his French toast before drenching each piece in syrup.  
  
Well, it seems the Ministry is in quite a frenzy at the moment, Lucius remarked to no one in particular. There's a lot of confusion and mayhem running rampant.  
  
Narcissa dabbed at her mouth. That's good, Lucius. The more chaos transpiring in the Ministry means less effective administration.  
  
Lucius closed the newspaper. That was my point, Narcissa. He finally acknowledged Draco with a glare. Draco, I am meeting associates in Hogsmeade today. As soon as I return, you have more practicing to continue, do you hear me?  
  
Draco nodded. Yes, Father. I shall be ready.  
  
Lucius threw his soiled napkin on his plate and stood. he replied, pushing his chair back from the table. See to it that you are.  
  
He stalked from the table and Draco glared at his retreating form. The roar of the floo system was heard along with the distant order of The Hog's Head! and then the house plunged into silence.  
  
Narcissa warned.  
  
Draco glanced at her. Yes, Mum?  
  
She applied butter to a warm croissant. You know what. Don't openly defy him like that. What if he had turned around and caught you?  
  
Draco shrugged and popped a sausage link in his mouth.  
  
I swear, sometimes you don't think before you act.  
  
Draco glared indignantly, and continued eating his breakfast. Narcissa just raised an eyebrow at her petulant son as she took a delicate bite of her croissant and then placed it on her deep green linen napkin while she chewed. She folded the half eaten croissant neatly in the napkin and stood from her seat, brushing any crumbs off of her lap. Her son glanced up from his dish at her. He swallowed his food hastily as he saw her preparing to leave.  
  
Where are you going? he questioned, frowning.  
  
She placed her utensils on her plate to signal that she was finished so her dishes could be cleared away by a house elf.  
  
I'm going to read in my study for a while. Mrs. Parkinson sent me a slew of novels that I simply must read'. Although her taste differs greatly from mine, on occasion she does recommend an interesting read, she replied, shrugging. She leaned across the table in a conspiring manner.  
  
And besides, she tends to be very irritating when I can't point out specific details or scenes from the novels she sends to me. It's easier to just read the bloody things than listen to her complain about how I should have read the exquisite pieces of literature' she sends.  
  
Draco grinned. Like mother, like daughter. They're both annoying wenches.  
  
Narcissa scolded, swatting at his arm. Be nice.  
  
He looked at her innocently. Mother, I have no idea what you are on about. I am _always_ nice.  
  
Narcissa laughed as she approached the dining room entrance. Yes, and I am the Queen of England.  
  
Meaning Lucius is king? Merlin help us all, Draco muttered, buttering his own croissant.  
  
His mother paused and turned. Be careful when you're around him, alright, sweetheart? Please?  
  
Draco sighed and nodded. Smiling back in encouragement, Narcissa exited the room.  
  
Draco watched her leave. Seeing her and chatting with her reminded him of his extremely vivid dream. The transformation of Lily Potter into Narcissa Malfoy had been creepy, but watching the former's bright emerald green eyes fade into the latter's sky blue eyes had made the dream so much more _real_. The fear and desperation that screamed at him from those eyes scared him shitless, as did the possible meanings of the dream. He refused to think about those though; it just couldn't (and _wouldn't_, if he had anything to do with it) happen.  
  
He growled to himself as his mind once again wandered into that dangerous territory. He angrily pushed his chair away from the table and stood abruptly. Throwing his napkin on top of his plate, he stormed up to his room to retrieve his broom to blow off some steam and fear in the sunny weather.  
  
For quicker reflexes, he zipped around the many towers and steeples of Malfoy Manor, executing various dangerous twists and turns. The need to avoid pulverization through contact with a hard stone structure kept him alert and determined. After this, dodging bludgers should be a piece of cake. After shooting out from behind the northern wing of the manor, he flew lazily over the expansive green gardens before turning to complete the maze among the towers again. A gentle breeze fluttered through the air and Draco paused to rake his fingers through his sweaty hair and enjoy the breeze. _I should have worn a lighter robe_, he mused. Shrugging, he glanced down before preparing to accelerate speed. A little house elf was waving up at him and squeaking something loudly. Rolling his eyes, Draco slowly descended. Lucius was back.  
  
Young Master Malfoy! Young Master Malfoy!! it called, out of breath from jumping around trying to get its young master's attention.  
  
Draco replied as his feet touched the ground.  
  
Master Malfoy is home, sir, and wants to see young master in his study. Master Malfoy says it's very important, sir. And to be prompt, sir.  
  
Draco nodded, knowing what was in store for him. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself to straighten his robes and rinse the sweat from his body. He handed his broom to the house elf and ordered it to return it to its proper place. Then, holding his head up, he entered the house and traveled to Lucius' study.  
  
The fire was roaring angrily as he entered. Lucius was sitting nonchalantly in his high backed seat, regally sipping wine. Draco waited until he was addressed.  
  
Didn't the damn house elf tell you to be prompt?  
  
I had to clean up a bit, Father. I was sweaty from flying.  
  
Lucius turned and pursed his lips. Lot of good it will do you. You still cannot manage to beat Potter.  
  
Draco said nothing, but he fumed inwardly.  
  
Lucius watched his son. Well, what are we waiting for? You must practice the Cruciatus today. Tell me, what is the key to a successful Cruciatus?  
  
Draco replied. The stronger the hatred, the more powerful the curse.  
  
Lucius rested his chin on his hand. Mmm. What else?  
  
One has to mean it for it to work. If an individual who has no desire to use it on someone says the incantation, nothing significant will happen.   
  
Draco felt like he was reciting information from a book. He probably was. Lucius nodded. Then, as if he was remembering something, he smirked. It faded as quickly as it appeared, and the cold man glared at his son.  
  
Yes. You know the components of a successful Cruciatus, but can you cast one? he raised an eyebrow.   
  
Draco watched as the little house elf from the previous day's practice scrambled into the room.  
  
Yes, Master Malfoy? What can Posey gets for sir?  
  
Nothing, just be quiet, Lucius barked. He eyed Draco. Go ahead.  
  
Draco reached into his robe and extracted his wand. He pointed it at the trembling creature.  
  
  
  
The house elf fell to the ground, twitching and squeaking uncontrollably. Draco held his wand steady and tried not to be affected by its weak squeaks.  
  
  
  
Draco lowered his wand and turned his attention to his father.  
  
Draco, that was the most pathetic attempt at the Cruciatus I have ever seen. The bloody thing should be screaming for its life. Do it again.  
  
Draco nodded and pointed his wand again.   
  
This time, the house elf began screeching in pain and tried to stop itself from jerking around violently on the floor. Draco inwardly nodded. That should satisfy his father.  
  
Draco! Stop.  
  
Or not.  
  
Lowering his wand, Draco looked at his father again. The man peered at him with callous steel eyes.  
  
Draco, you truly disgust me. You're not putting any effort into this. The Dark Lord will not let you get away with weak attempts like these. Muggles must be tortured, not merely slapped on the wrist so to speak. Do it again. And this time, do it right.  
  
Draco gritted his teeth and pointed his wand. Maybe the fact that he didn't want to torture a stupid house elf was the reason his curse wasn't that strong. _Concentrate_, he told himself. _Concentrate on meaning to do this, on hatred.._  
  
  
  
The house elf began to quiver in spasms against the floor, shrieking each time its limbs were pulled in two different directions by the spell. Draco inwardly repeated a mantra to himself.  
  
_I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate Lucius. I hate.._  
  
  
  
Draco's wand fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. He bit his lip as he fell to the ground.  
  
You deplorable excuse for a wizard! Do you or do you not want to please the Dark Lord? Because from your display thus far, you are far from pleasing him. I am ashamed of these pitiful attempts. Have I taught you nothing? You are not putting any effort into this at all.  
  
Lucius cruelly kicked his convulsing son in the stomach. Draco couldn't help but emit a small whimper.  
  
That damn house elf should be bloody convulsing and writhing on the floor like you are, and should be screaming for its life. Like you want to, you little bastard, Lucius hissed.  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and tried his damnedest not to scream. He refused to give his father the satisfaction. But, the pain...blinding, white hot, almost electric...intolerable...he didn't know how much more he would be able to endure. Suddenly everything was fading, as his head continued to pound into the floor every so often. Far away, he heard his father's cruel voice call in house elves.  
  
Get him out of my sight. Now. Just get him out. I will send for him later, to...practice more, the fading voice declared maliciously.  
  
A few hours later Draco woke in his room, a painful headache hammering at his skull. He raised a hand to rest it on his forehead, as if pressure would force the pain away. He wasn't planning on opening his eyes until a house elf addressed him.  
  
Young Master Malfoy, is you awake? Dil has potion that makes your head hurts no more.  
  
Draco slowly opened his eyes and focused them on the concerned house elf standing on a chair next to his bed. He began to pull himself into a sitting position, but the house elf snapped his fingers and the pillows below his head fluffed until his head was in a position that he could accept drinks without choking. The house elf handed him a glass filled with an amber colored liquid and he downed it as quickly as possible. He didn't even question what it was. As long as it stopped the bludgers in his head, he didn't give a shit. Like most potions, this one worked quite fast. However, it didn't stop his sore joints from protesting as he sat up nor did it soothe his aching body.  
  
Does young sir want something to eat? Or anything to drink?  
  
Draco shook his head and winced as he shifted his weight on the bed. I'm fine. I'll take some privacy though.  
  
The creature bowed and scurried out the door, closing it behind him. Draco sighed and glanced around his room. His eyes landed on his trunk, and he gingerly climbed out of bed to hobble over to it. He let his fingers graze the leather surface, where _Draco Malfoy_ was engraved in silver. He lifted his head and looked out his window at the darkening sky and bristling wind as it whipped through the trees. _A storm_, he thought bitterly. _At least it reflects my mood._ With no regards to his sore legs, he kicked his trunk as hard as he could, sending it into the wall behind it.  
  
_How dare he! How DARE he!!_ Draco fumed. _How dare he treat me like that, how dare he call me names. How dare he_....Draco walked out onto his balcony. He gripped the edge tightly as he tried to control his raging emotions. Hatred. Pain. Fear. Anger. Desperation. Thunder boomed and shook the earth below him, but he remained unaffected. Lightning illuminated the forest beyond the Malfoy estate, yet he solely concentrated on keeping calm. A few fat droplets of water hit the floor of the balcony. In the matter of a few minutes, Draco was standing in the midst of a torrential downpour. He lifted his head, eyes closed, and felt as the water beat down on his face. The water drenched his hair and dripped down his cheeks in rivulets, acid mixing with salt.  
  
_How dare I keep Mother in all this danger. How dare I risk the chance of my anger getting the better of me and revealing something. How dare I let this man, this monster, affect me like he does?_  
  
He stalked back inside his room and shut the balcony doors with a bang. He unlocked his trunk and unveiled its secret compartment. He withdrew the two-way mirror and fingered the edges and stared off into space, contemplating. He had the crucial information the Order needed. Professor Dumbledore had assured him that his mother would be safe. He no longer yearned to earn his father's love; the idea was impossible, unattainable. His father had no feelings, had no love. Now all Draco wanted was to protect his mother and himself.  
  
_Don't be too proud to come back here._  
  
Draco eyed the mirror again as Harry's words echoed in his head. He took a deep breath and wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hands. A few things needed to be said before he went anywhere.  
  
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Draco slammed his trunk closed and shoved the mirror in the pocket of his pants. He rushed to open the door.  
  
Draco, why the bloody hell are you soaking wet?  
  
Draco looked his sneering father in the eye. I got caught in the rain, Father. I had to...save my easel before my painting got ruined, he lied.  
  
Lucius rolled his eyes in disgust. Ugh, that foolish hobby of yours. Well, no more time for paintbrushes. We have more, he paused and smirked evilly, practicing to do.  
  
Yes, sir, Draco replied, following his father down the hall.   
  
Draco, you are loyal to the Dark Lord, correct? Lucius questioned.  
  
Draco smirked behind his father's back. Of course, Father. Who else would I be loyal to? he asked. Harry Potter? Dumbledore?   
  
He added a snort to demonstrate the absurdity of it all. His father must have bought the act, since he did not turn around. Lucius proceeded to lead the young blond through a series of hallways. It finally occurred to Draco that they had missed the staircase. Confusion settled over his face.  
  
And in order to prove that loyalty, you would do anything?  
  
Draco frowned and a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach.   
  
Perfect. You should do just fine with your next practice then, Lucius mused.  
  
Apprehension joined the foreboding in Draco's stomach. He didn't like his father's satisfied tone of voice. Overly pleasant and full of mockery, it was that tone of I know something you don't know'. Was Voldemort here? Was there a room full of innocent Muggles that he would have to kill? He looked around him as his mind raced with the possible sick ideas Lucius could conceive.  
  
It was then that he realized they were in Narcissa's wing of the house.  
  
Lucius approached her study and kicked open the door. Narcissa jumped, a hand to her heart, but she sighed and placed a bookmark in her novel and greeted her guests.  
  
Hello, Draco, Lucius. You startled me. Did you need something?  
  
Lucius smirked at her. Well, Draco, I have found an excellent way to both test your loyalty and practice the Killing Curse. I daresay I am quite clever. He turned to his son.   
  
Kill her.  
  
Draco's eyes widened. Across the room, Narcissa's identical ones did the same.  
  
he spluttered, appalled.  
  
You heard me, Draco. Your attachment to your mother must end. It is one of your many weaknesses, and, quite frankly, it annoys me. I want it to end. Kill her. Now.  
  
Draco stared from his mother, whose gaze was glued to the floor, to his father, who had a satisfied smirk on his lips. Rage was silently boiling within him, mixed with a cup full of defiance and a teaspoon of fear.  
  
Lucius placed a large hand on Draco's shoulder. Consider it your first assignment, Draco. You do not ignore assignments. You claimed you were loyal to the Dark Lord. Prove it, Draco. Kill her.   
  
His gaze hardened. That's an order.  
  
Draco stared helplessly at his mother's figure, hands clasped in her lap and head bowed, resigned to her fate. Draco glared back at Lucius.  
  
Absolutely not.  
  
Narcissa's head snapped up at the words, and Lucius narrowed his eyes. I didn't give you the choice, you insolent git. I _told_ you to do it.  
  
Draco shook his head and gripped his wand in his pocket. And I told _you_ NO. She didn't do anything wrong. She's a pureblooded witch, not some damn disgusting Mudblood. If you think -  
  
Draco! Just do it! For your own sake, Narcissa pleaded.  
  
He stared at her. There is no way in hell I am killing you, Mum. Forget it.  
  
Maybe you should listen to the stupid bitch, Lucius growled. It's the smartest thing she's said since accepting my proposal.  
  
Forgetting the wand, Draco raised his fist and drove it right into his father's nose.  
  
Don't you dare say those things about her. She's a wonderful woman and you're just too much of an arrogant, cold, bastard to realize that.   
  
Lucius stumbled backwards into a glass cabinet that housed his mother's porcelain figurines. The cabinet shattered and glass and porcelain showered down on the elder Malfoy, causing cuts and bruises along with his bleeding nose. As soon as he was on his feet again, his wand was out and pointed at Draco.  
  
You stupid, pathetic little son of a bitch! How DARE you speak to me like that! How DARE you raise your fist to me! How DARE you defy me like that! You forget your place. I am your father; how dare you treat me like this.  
  
With a murmured incantation, Draco was thrown against the far wall. Narcissa shrieked and jumped from her seat to help her son, but a well aimed spell from Lucius sent her into the opposite wall. Plaster and bits of wallpaper rained down on both her and Draco. Draco ignored the pain and scrambled to his feet, whipping out his wand. It didn't matter that he was up against an experienced wizard, and a Death Eater at that. Anger and hatred would enable him to do anything.   
  
he stated venomously. You are no human being, let alone a man, husband, or father. You deserve to rot in the deepest pit of hell.  
  
Lucius' gray eyes turned dangerous.  
  
You mother fucking piece of shit, he hissed. After all I have done for you, provided for you, given to you, this is how you repay me? With cruel words and brazen defiance? I should -  
  
After all you've done for me? AFTER ALL YOU'VE DONE FOR ME?!? Draco interrupted, blinded by rage. All you have EVER done for me was beat me, and insult me, and tell me what a terrible person I was. How I disgusted you. How I made you ashamed. How I wasn't perfect. You constantly raped and beat my mother, who NEVER did anything to deserve it. You controlled my life, I was never allowed to make my own decisions. You treated your own family like the Muggles you torture and despise. You are _despicable_.  
  
Lucius slowly advanced on Draco. Despicable, eh? I can show you despicable.  
  
A flick of his wand brought Narcissa sprawled out in front of him, a few cuts and bruises on her body as well. Narcissa looked up at her husband with fear.  
  
  
  
He smirked. On your knees, where you belong, bitch. I think I'm going to have to teach our son how to torture a human being properly. Do you mind helping, Love?  
  
  
  
Lucius' body fell to the ground, convulsing and writhing violently along the hardwood floor. Draco rushed over and helped his mother to her feet. He kicked his father in the stomach.  
  
Don't you dare speak to my mother like that.  
  
The enraged elder Malfoy grabbed his wand and managed to shoot a spell at his embraced wife and son. Draco and Narcissa flew to opposite ends of the room again. Draco's Cruciatus Curse stopped and Lucius Malfoy got to his feet. He glared sinisterly at his son and wife who, fighting nausea and dizziness, both jumped to their feet anticipating more attack.  
  
he cried. Narcissa's and Draco's wands flew into his hands. They looked at each other across the room, knowing they were in a bad situation.  
  
Well, well, what have we here? Mother and son, wandless, with no way out. He pointed his wand. Either of you moves, I'll kill the other.  
  
Narcissa and Draco froze in their spots, not wanting to risk the other's life. Lucius sneered.  
  
How sweet. He looked at Draco. I told you to stop protecting her, Draco. But you didn't listen, did you? And now, because of _your_ ignorance, you will never hear her speak again. I'm going to demonstrate how the Killing Curse works.  
  
Draco cried and started to run toward his mother.  
  
  
  
Draco froze in his spot, unable to move. He urged his legs to move, but they were rooted to the floor. His haunting dream came flooding back to him.  
  
I hate you, he hissed. YOU EVIL BASTARD! I HATE YOU! I _HATE_ YOU!  
  
Lucius sneered malevolently at Draco. Say good-bye to your mother, Draco.  
  
He aimed his wand.  
  
_Avada Kedavra._  
  
A flash of bright green light filled the room, along with an ear-piercing scream of horror. It was soon replaced by the resounding sound of a lifeless body hitting the floor.  
  
Cruel steel eyes locked with blazing blue ones.  
  
Lucius Malfoy could only laugh.  
  
**A/N #2:** [from a VERY deep hole FAR FAR away] Eep!! Don't hurt me! I didn't mean to kill anybody! Just review!! And please refrain from hurling heavy and/or metal objects at me.


	26. Numb

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** I just wanted to state how truly and honestly sorry I am about the lack of updates. June ended painfully in two family deaths within days of each other, but I can't allow myself to use that excuse to justify over two months of no updates. I swear, I'm going to try really hard on my next story to update quicker. So, yet again, I want to sincerely apologize for my laziness. And thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your continuing support and reviews. I do appreciate it - seriously. Even the death threats and yelling and screaming after the last chapter, lol. I love it all. Hell, I love _you_ all!!!! THANK YOU SO BLOODY MUCH!!  
  
In other news, I just wanted to let anyone who cares know that Fred the turtle has unfortunately passed from this life. Never fear though; another trip to Chinatown has brought George a new friend so he won't be lonely - Charlie!! (Anyone seeing a pattern here?) They send you lotsa turtle love!!  
  
And finally....Based on the reactions to last chapter, I think it is safe to say that I am author soup after this one. ::sigh:: Oh well, here we go....  
  
(and due to 's new formatting, I can't get more space between scenes, nor can I put stars or dashes or anything, so I'm going to put **_NEW SCENE_** whenever the scene changes, as much as I abhor how that looks...)  
  
**The Pain Within  
Chapter 25: Numb**  
  
Lucius turned to face the other occupant of the room, whose pale hands were clenched into unnaturally tight fists.  
  
Lucius drawled, feigning an apologetic expression. His smug gray eyes, however, suggested just the opposite. My wand...slipped.  
  
You horrid, vicious bastard!! How _could_ you?!? Of all abominable things to do, you - you - I _hate_ you!!! I truly do hope you rot in hell for all of eternity, you detestable son of a bitch!  
  
A blond eyebrow rose mockingly on Lucius's pale face. Now, now, that's enough screaming. I think I'll do to you what I should have done sixteen years ago, you pathetic use of life.  
  
Blue eyes stung momentarily with pain before they continued to burn two holes of unparalleled fury into the man's face.  
  
Lucius smirked and raised his wand.  
  
How about you join your -  
  
  
  
The spell hit Lucius from the back, and he whirled around to confront the intruder, only to be met with another punch to his nose. This blow finished what Draco's had started; it effectively broke Lucius' nose, causing a torrent of blood to gush over his mouth and chin and splatter on his immaculate ebony robes. A hand immediately flew to his face in shock to attempt to curb the blood flow.  
  
he shouted, the action apparently painful due to the grimace on his face. What da bwoody hell do woo -  
  
He never had the chance to finish his angry demand, for another spell dispatched him once again into the wall where the glass cabinet had stood. Before the dizzy man could collapse into the shards of glass, an arm hoisted him up by his neck and slammed him into the wall with a rough shove. The tip of a wand dug unmercifully into his throat. Black eyes glittered dangerously.  
  
What you just did was very stupid on your part, Lucius. Very stupid indeed, one enraged Severus Snape hissed.  
  
A silvery eyebrow rose slightly. I..don't..regwet it, Lucius rasped.  
  
Snape savagely tightened his left hand around the blond man's throat, incensed at the indifference. Lucius' eyes widened a fraction.  
  
Severus nudged his wand deeper into the hollow of Lucius' neck. I can't find one reason not to kill you right now, you sick bastard.  
  
He watched in satisfaction as the gray eyes started to roll back into his head. Reluctantly, he released the unconscious man, letting him sink into the pool of glass beneath him.  
  
However, the Aurors might.  
  
A binding spell easily guaranteed that Lucius Malfoy would not be going anywhere anytime soon, even if he had been conscious. Severus shook his head angrily and glared.  
  
Then an anguished whimper reached his ears. The sound jolted him from his wrathful stupor. He swiftly crossed the room and stared in shock at the scene before him, Lucius' actions finally becoming real. An emotion akin to grief washed over him, and he crouched down.  
  
he whispered.  
  
He killed, sniffle, him, Severus. That bastard killed my son. My _son_, Severus. My Draco.  
  
Severus gently pulled the red-eyed woman to his chest and wrapped an arm around her shoulder while his other hand soothingly smoothed back her hair. Her sobs were now muffled by his cloak, and he could feel the heart wrenching despair reverberate through his body. He could find no words of comfort to offer her and instead settled on saying nothing. He slowly rocked her back and forth while she cried.  
  
She had managed to cradle the upper half of Draco's lean body in her lap. She clutched Draco's head to her chest, her slender fingers caressing the silky strands of blond hair.  
  
He should have killed me. _Me_, not Draco. Me, Narcissa whispered. It's -  
  
- not your fault, Narcissa, Severus interrupted before she could blame herself. Draco would never blame you for what happened. Ever. And you know that, so don't go there.  
  
I know, she sighed shakily. But I don't know what I'm going to do without him, Severus.  
  
She looked up at him with brimming cerulean eyes.  
  
I just..don't..know, she murmured hopelessly.  
  
Severus glanced down into Draco's duplicate pair of eyes. Rather than tears, they were shining with defiance, forever frozen in loyalty.  
  
I think, he whispered in her ear, that you will have some packing to do once everything clears up.  
  
**_NEW SCENE_**  
  
Snape was not surprised that Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks were amongst the team of Aurors that showed up a mere five minutes later. They were careful not to act too familiar with each other, lest they rouse the suspicions of the rest of the Aurors. Claiming the need to question the family friend privately, Moody and his two subordinates hauled Severus into another room while other team members dealt with Lucius Malfoy's unconscious body and roping the room off to prevent damage to the evidence.  
  
What the bloody blazes happened, Snape? Moody growled, his magical eye watching the wall for possible eavesdroppers.  
  
Severus folded his arms. Draco must've had the mirror on him and said Potter's name, because the mirror I was in possession of activated. I listened to about a minute of their conversation, and then apparated here as quickly as I could. I didn't know which room they were in, and wasted so much time searching. I turned down a corridor and heard voices, he explained.  
  
He looked down regretfully. But I was too late, Alastor.  
  
And then you attacked Malfoy? Kingsley questioned.  
  
Severus spit out, but I had to. I was blinded by rage, and he was going after Narcissa next. I wasn't about -  
  
No need to defend your actions, Snape, Moody interrupted. We're not criticizing, just clarifying.  
  
Severus just nodded. Moody scratched his chin in thought before slowly pacing the room.  
  
Tonks, write down that the family friend had a suspicion that something was wrong and rushed over. Seeing what had happened and what was about to happen, he attacked Malfoy in Mrs. Malfoy's defense. Most of that is the truth.  
  
He stopped pacing and eyed Snape. However, if anybody should question any of that - which they won't - Snape is a competent enough liar to elaborate.  
  
Don't write that las- Moody paused and looked at Tonks.  
  
Tonks, did you get any of that?  
  
She absentmindedly held a notepad in one hand, and a poised quill in the other.  
  
  
  
Moody hobbled over to the young (fuscha-haired) witch who was staring at the door in a stupefied trance.  
  
  
  
She slowly turned her head toward him. That's the second decent cousin I've lost in the last twelve months, she stated quietly.  
  
Moody and Kingsley shared a concerned look, and then Moody placed a bony hand on her shoulder.  
  
Look, Nymphadora, go report back to the office and give them a brief account of what happened. Then take the rest of the day off. If anybody asks, you tell them Moody allowed you to leave. They don't need no other reason than that.  
  
She nodded and looked up at him, blinking back tears. Thank you, sir, she said gratefully as she prepared to apparate.  
  
With a soft _POP!_ she was gone, leaving three quiet men in her wake. As they moved to enter the other room again, Severus paused and asked,  
  
Do you think I should be a gentlemen and let her kill Lucius Malfoy, or should I be selfish and do it myself?  
  
**_NEW SCENE_**  
  
News of Draco Malfoy's death by his father's wand did nothing short of numbing the wizarding community when it appeared on the front cover of the Daily Prophet the next day. Lucius Malfoy may have been a politician and a businessman, but few people ever imagined him capable of _murdering_ his own son, especially because of a heated family argument as the Prophet reported. Many wizards and witches felt sympathetic for Narcissa, who had had to witness her only son's death and her husband's arrest. Flowers poured into Malfoy Manor from around the country, but not until after they were thoroughly checked for curses by an Auror. Severus didn't want Narcissa to take any chances. He was positive that the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters were seething at Lucius' arrest, especially if they knew that he, Severus, had been the one responsible for alerting Aurors. They would be out for blood for sure. The Prophet included statements by a few Hogwarts professors about Draco's intelligence and dedication to schoolwork; Blaise commented on Draco's determination and guidance on the Quidditch pitch; and Pansy mournfully stated that he and his presence will definitely be missed in school. Of course, Severus wasn't entirely convinced that either student actually meant what had been said. As Slytherins, both had reputations to uphold and entertained a certain fancy for attention.  
  
The wake and funeral were to be held the following day. Narcissa sniffled her way through both, making small talk and thanking those who showed up for attending. She smiled sadly at the large group of Slytherins who arrived at the wake in their uniforms and ensured that their House's symbol was visible to all. The other six members of the Slytherin Quidditch team proudly sported their game robes, and Adam placed a miniature version of the golden House Cup amongst the beautiful floral arrangements surrounding the casket. Narcissa hugged a few children she had known since Draco's childhood, wishing she could whisper the truth in their ears so maybe they would be persuaded into thinking on their own and escaping fate while they still could. Even though a select few seemed genuinely disturbed and upset by Draco's death, she knew it would be a futile attempt. They and their families attended the funeral not to pay respect, but to appear sympathetic and concerned for Narcissa. They spoke of their disgust at Lucius's behavior, while disgust of Narcissa and Draco shone in their eyes. Because of this mess, one of their lord's best men was locked in Azkaban. It didn't seem fair to Draco's memory to have all these people offering false condolences for the sake of their damn images. Narcissa restrained her anger and conversed with them in between tears. Her black lace handkerchief was clenched tightly in her dainty hand, thoroughly soaked.  
  
Severus Snape stood by her side, bearing his own share of the disgust. He was well aware that many Death Eaters were not happy with his actions against Lucius, but decided not to worry about them until the next meeting where he would orate his heavily-concocted lie. Right now he needed to help Narcissa in whatever way he possibly could.  
  
Many people filtered in and out of the funeral home, presenting words of comfort to Narcissa and talking idly to those mourners they knew. A few ministry officials had stopped, including Cornelius Fudge, and a couple of the Aurors that had arrived at the Manor two days before even forced time into their busy schedules to pay their respect. They were more deeply sympathetic than most of the people Narcissa had known her entire life. Severus almost snorted at the irony. The entire staff of Hogwarts had attended, seeing as school was still in recess. Another thing he could have snorted at. Most - actually, all of them, save for himself - had loathed Draco's attitude and behavior in school. True, he was one of Hogwart's brighter students, but that didn't compensate for the disrespect he had frequently shown them, the professors, or the cruelty he bestowed on his fellow non-Slytherin classmates. Severus did, however, note that both Minerva and Hagrid had been affected more so than the others. Also, he could remember few other events in which Albus Dumbledore had looked so solemn. The Potions Master almost smiled; Draco had somehow managed to grow on the Headmaster.  
  
As the viewing came to an end, Narcissa once again profusely thanked all attendees for their support. She especially thanked Dumbledore for he had ever done for Draco and the Headmaster's blue eyes conveyed that he understood exactly what she referred to as he held her delicate hands consolingly in his own warm ones. She was in the process of turning to speak with Professor McGonagall when three cloaked figures entered the room. The tallest removed her cloak, and brown ringlets cascaded around unmistakable rosy cheeks as the person motioned for her younger comrades to do the same. Her former Transfiguration professor forgotten, new tears welled up in Narcissa's eyes.  
  
I realize that the viewing is almost over, but I didn't want to come whilst there was a crowd. I hope you understand, Cissy, the woman said quickly and meekly.  
  
Narcissa said nothing as she flung herself toward the woman and embraced her as if she had not seen her in years. Which, obviously, she had not.  
  
she sobbed. I should have kept in contact, I should have been a stronger, better, person, I should have -  
  
Now, Cissy, don't bother with shoulda-woulda-coulda's. It doesn't matter now. Don't you worry. It's alright, the woman soothed as tears formed in her own eyes, hugging Narcissa as tightly as the former was hugging her.  
  
I'm so sorry about your son, Cissy. Really, I am. I've _heard_ that Draco was a wonderful person, just like you always were. Are, she stated.  
  
Oh, he was Andromeda, he truly was! I loved him more than anything.  
  
She sniffled and pulled back.  
  
And now he's gone, she whispered. I wish you could have known him. You would have adored him.  
  
Andromeda smiled sadly at her older sister. Well, there'll be plenty of time for you to tell me all about him, right? And I'll feel like I knew him.  
  
Narcissa's countenance brightened with the first true smile she'd produced since spending time with Draco.  
  
Of course, Andy, of course, she stated as she tried to regain composure. She finally noticed her sister's young companions and Andromeda rolled her eyes.  
  
I'm sorry, how incredibly rude of me! the curly haired witch exclaimed.  
  
Cissy, this is my daughter Nymphadora, and her...boyfriend James.  
  
Narcissa's eyes lit up in recognition and she clasped Tonks' hands in her own. It's so nice to meet you, Nymphadora, she stated sincerely.  
  
The corners of Tonks' mouth slightly turned upward. The pleasure is mine, Aunt Narcissa. But please, call me Tonks. It's absolutely wonderful to finally meet the woman I've heard so many good things about, she said, chancing a glance at the casket.  
  
Narcissa's eyes filled with tears as she caught the double meaning of her niece's words. The same to you, she whispered so only Tonks could hear. He adored you.  
  
Tonks' now hazel eyes brimmed with tears, and determined not to cry (considering it would be over a cousin she had never met) tugged at James' hand and pulled him forward to shift the attention to him. He squeezed her hand in comfort as he approached Narcissa.  
  
I'm truly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Malfoy, he said softly. We all are.  
  
Narcissa nodded, albeit slightly confused at his second statement, but said, Thank you.  
  
The young boy's eyes lifted toward the casket, full of an emotion that Narcissa sensed to be regret. She didn't dwell on it long though, because Andromeda had spotted her sole support through everything.  
  
Severus Snape, is that you? she exclaimed, moving around James so she could embrace her former schoolmate.  
  
I'm afraid so, Andromeda, Severus remarked dryly as he awkwardly hugged her back. How are you?  
  
I'm alright, thank you. How about yourself? How's good ole Hogwarts treating you?  
  
was the sarcastic reply.  
  
Andromeda shook her head. I don't know how you ever got involved with teaching. A genius at potions, but somehow, I never saw how you plus kids added up.  
  
A distinct snort was heard from James and Tonks sent a small smirk in his direction. Minerva glared disapprovingly.  
  
Thank you for the confidence, Andy.  
  
She smirked. Your welcome. I'm sure you remember my daughter, do you not?  
  
Snape glanced at Tonks. Ahh, yes, Miss Tonks. Spiteful little Gryffindor. And how are you? he inquired politely.  
  
I'm fine, Professor Snape, she answered, a slight mock to her voice as she said Professor'.  
  
Ah, Professor McGonagall! And Professor Sprout! Professor Dumbledore! How are you all? Andromeda asked as she greeted each of her former professors, Narcissa following in her wake. Meanwhile, Snape was eying Tonks and her companion.  
  
The metamorphmagus had appropriately changed her hair to a blue tinted black. She was shorter than normal, and her skin was quite pale. An ode to Draco, perhaps? She wore simple black dress robes and stared forlornly at the casket. Her pale hand was still clasped in her boyfriend's, whose skin was much tanner than hers. He was slightly taller than her and although he had a smaller frame than most males, was not scrawny at all. He had straight chocolate colored hair that hung over his eyes and ears, and, like his girlfriend, also wore a simple black dress robe. His eyes never left the ground, as Tonks' never left Draco's lifeless face.  
  
Snape quietly cleared his throat. Tonks looked at him, hazel eyes full of anger and pain.  
  
He will be avenged, Tonks, he assured in a low voice.  
  
The young witch shook her head furiously.  
  
It's not enough! she whispered savagely.  
  
James lifted his head and watched her.  
  
It's not fair, she mumbled. He was only doing the right thing, standing up for what he believed in. I can't help but think it's my fault, or maybe the Order's. Maybe if we -  
  
Snape growled sharply.  
  
she hissed back.  
  
He peered at her. Don't you dare say another thing, he ordered quietly, black eyes glancing at James.  
  
Tonks rolled her eyes. _He_ knows about the Order, Snape.  
  
Snape glared daggers at her, livid, and he appeared ready to convulse.  
  
You stupid bint, he practically spat, what do you think you're doing, telling -  
  
He trailed off mid-sentence when James lifted his head and glared angrily at the greasy haired man through emerald green eyes.  
  
Don't call her names, _Professor_.  
  
Snape blinked in shock and then directed his glare at James'.  
  
I should've known _you_ would find a way to come, Snape commented disdainfully.  
  
I had to, James' told him defiantly.  
  
Of course, Tonks told him. Pitched a right fit, he did. Refused to take no' for an answer. He was too determined to come, and rather than risk him trying something dangerous, we slapped a few glamour spells on him and titled him my   
  
Snape nodded in understanding and raised an eyebrow at their linked hands.  
  
A role you both seem quite comfortable with, he smirked.  
  
He was satisfied to see a faint blush creep its way onto Potter's cheeks as Tonks glanced down at their hands and quickly pulled her hand away to scratch her elbow.  
  
Snape's smirk fell and he glanced at the casket.  
  
Draco would have found that highly amusing, you know, he stated.  
  
Tonks smiled somberly. He would have, the little bugger.  
  
She looked up at Snape and Harry, tears once again filling her eyes. What happens now?  
  
**_NEW SCENE_**  
  
A few days later found one Potions Master taking sick days to help clear matters up at Malfoy Manor, as the returning student body of Hogwarts was told. An almost surreal atmosphere had settled over the students as they had taken their seats in the Great Hall and held a moment of silence for their recently departed schoolmate. None dared to declare that the Slytherin had deserved it, as if Draco Malfoy's intimidating persona still lingered. Perhaps shock still numbed them, or fear of the reality dawning on them began spreading its icy claws throughout their bodies. Curious glances were sent to the Slytherin table, searching for a blond head somewhere in between the Serpent House's two largest members. Search as they may, no eyes would ever rest on the infamous Draco Malfoy again.  
  
Between her grief and the threat of vengeful Death Eaters attacking, Severus Snape refused to leave Narcissa alone in that big cold mansion all by herself. He, Moody, and Tonks had set up extra wards around the building, but that didn't entirely prevent dark magic from entering. Although he knew Narcissa was a decent witch, Severus felt better knowing she wasn't there alone. When it was time for him to return to Hogwarts, Andromeda had offered Narcissa the option of staying with her, but Narcissa had declined. She told her sister that Draco had constantly begged her to go stay with their cousins in France and that would be what she was planning to do, to honor Draco's wishes. Tonks told Severus that Andromeda had felt so bad for the lack of communication with Narcissa, and their reunion being at such a painful time, that she mentioned she might even join her sister in visiting France. This made him feel even better, knowing that she would be in good company for a while. In the meantime, he and Narcissa were spending time sorting through Draco's belongings.  
  
I plan on keeping his room just as it is, Severus. I don't want to put things away and change everything around. I want to be able to feel him every time I come in here, she told him sternly one morning as they entered Draco's bedroom.  
  
He wasn't sure if that was exactly healthy, but with time she might change her mind.  
  
she continued, wiping at her cheeks, he was an impeccably neat person. It's not like I would have to do a lot of straightening or anything.  
  
He was neat, and very well-organized, Severus agreed.  
  
I definitely am hanging every single one of his drawings in my room. I just have to find his sketchpad, she announced, approaching the bookshelves. She straightened already straight books as she skimmed the shelves.  
  
I didn't know he was an artist, her companion commented thoughtfully.  
  
Narcissa paused to look at him, a small smile on her face. It was one of his best kept secrets. His father was not fond of the hobby, thinking it too trivial or something ridiculously Lucius like that. He drew while he was at school in his sketchbook, and painted on canvas at home. I already have many of his paintings in my room and drawing room.  
  
She walked toward Draco's desk and leafed through the papers and books that sat in piles on top.  
  
He was always so nervous and excited to show me what he worked on at school. He had so many beautiful scenes of Hogwarts. They were so realistic, so extremely well done. He drew pictures during every season, from every viewpoint. Which, she smirked, makes me wonder when and where exactly he snuck to in order to get such views.  
  
Severus' mouth turned upward. Well, he never got in trouble for it. Or should I say he just never got caught?  
  
Narcissa grinned. A true Slytherin, he was.  
  
Her grin fell. What about you, Sev? Where does this all leave you, with the Dark Lord?  
  
I'm not entirely certain, Narcissa, Severus answered truthfully.  
  
You risked a lot by showing up that day, especially with how you handled Lucius. You shouldn't have done that! What if word gets out that you were chiefly involved with his arrest? The Dark Lord will be furious! He might do something..terrible..  
  
Severus looked at her frowning face.  
  
Then I will tell him that I had to, that I was doing it for the best interests of his cause. Lucius had just murdered the only other informant besides myself that resided within Hogwarts. I did fairly well watching the other staff members, but Draco had better access to his fellow students. Lucius had ruined the Lord's chances of more information that could lead to the downfall of Harry Potter. And I felt it was my duty to avenge such a disloyal act.  
  
He shrugged. It's a logical lie, Narcissa. I may get a few _Crucio_'s thrown at me, but nothing more.  
  
Narcissa shook her head.   
  
I've had worse punishment before, don't worry.  
  
Narcissa sighed and, the search for the sketchpad momentarily forgotten, walked over to Draco's easel to drag it to its proper position next to the desk.  
  
Severus strode from his stance by the window to assist her.  
  
Allow me, you sit.  
  
She nodded gratefully and sat down tiredly on her son's bed, gently smoothing back imaginary wrinkles in the soft comforter.  
  
Honestly, Narcissa, I _did_ have to. When that mirror activated, and I heard what was happening here, I immediately rushed over. I had a bad feeling, especially after..  
  
He paused as he gripped the easel and the attached blank canvas.  
  
Well, a few days previous, I had been speaking to Draco through the mirror while Lucius was out, and then he came back. He was quite inebriated. And...I didn't really realize how brutal he truly was.  
  
Narcissa nodded, avoiding his eyes.  
  
When I got here, and the sight of Draco lying on the floor with you crouched over him greeted my eyes, I just saw red. But, please, do not worry about me, Narcissa. I'll take whatever punishment comes my way.  
  
He easily lifted the easel and canvas he had been leaning on and looked to the woman in front of him.  
  
Where does this go?  
  
Narcissa lifted her blue eyes. Right over...  
  
Her words abruptly froze in her mouth and her eyes widened as she stared at the blank canvas. Severus immediately set the easel on the floor and hustled to her side.  
  
Narcissa, what is it? What's wrong?  
  
The little devil! He's a genius! An absolute genius!  
  
She promptly broke down into tears and hid her pale face in Severus' shoulder, clutching his arm. Wondering what could have provoked such an outburst, he lifted his head and his eyes caught sight of the canvas he had been holding a mere five seconds ago. The canvas that wasn't so blank anymore.  
  
In bright red letters and slightly slanted writing, a simple message was conveyed:  
  
_May 31  
Sneak Attack Hogwarts  
Raids frequent before  
Depending on no suspicion  
Kill in sleep  
Finish once and for all  
  
_Severus' mouth dropped.   
  
It's a type of paint, Narcissa explained quietly. I gave it to him for Christmas. It changes color depending on what one wishes.  
  
She paused.  
  
You said red' - you said I just saw red' right after you touched it, which allows us to see the words.  
  
Hogwarts' Potions Master stared down at her in amazement. He alternated between looking at her and the red words before him.  
  
Bloody damn brilliant, he murmured. This will be very useful. It's perfect.  
  
Narcissa tightened her hold on her friend.  
  
Not for me, she whispered. Or Draco.  
  
She sighed.  
  
Nothing can ever be perfect now.  
  
**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_**  
  
I feel like J.K. Rowling - I'm upset about killing one of my favorite characters. But, before you ruthlessly murder me, I will defend myself by stating that there was foreshadowing to this unfortunate event many chapters back, Chapter 12, I believe? It was a minute little detail that seemed like it just served setting purposes, but...it didn't. I'll pull the direct lines out if anyone requests it.  
  
And remember...I love you all!! You don't hurt (or kill) those who love you!! - Draco says so.  
  
Stay tuned for the epilogue...


	27. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** For the 27th and last time, everything belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
**A/N:** Sorry for the long update, it took me forever, and then I figured it would just be cool to update on November 3rd, since that's the date I started this story on 2 years ago. Wow, can you believe that? TWO years. And now - I have actually completed a story. After canceled the music section of the site, I never had the heart to finish any of my NSYNC stories. So this is new to me, lol.  
  
Enjoy the epilogue, and there will be a few individual A/N's at the end.  
  
**The Pain Within  
Epilogue**  
  
_May 31_  
  
It was one o'clock in the morning. The sky was pitch black and sprinkled with glittering stars. Gusts of wind swept through the shadowy trees of the forest and skimmed across the ebony surface of the lake, creating small ripples as it passed. It swirled anxiously around the somber stalwart stone walls of the colossal castle of Hogwarts before dying away into the night. No light appeared to be shining from any window of the building; it can be assumed that all occupants were asleep.  
  
At least, that's the intended illusion. In reality, four teachers had just recently led their respective students to hidden, well-protected rooms within the castle, leaving certain students in charge and with instructions to be followed in case of an emergency evacuation. The majority of the student body was concealed in these rooms, but a few students were allowed to choose whether they stayed with their classmates or helped the cause. Three of these students slowly strode toward the Great Hall to join their fellow classmates and elders, their thoughts and destinies weighing heavily on their minds.  
  
Who else chose not to stay?  
  
Mostly people from the DA. They all left before.  
  
  
  
The three turned down corridors and marched down staircases, winding their way toward the Great Hall in silence. They passed whispering paintings and suits of armor, and many empty classrooms that had, hours ago, been filled with dozens of students involved in various lectures and studies. Now most of those students were tucked away within the walls of the school while a better portion of Britain's wizarding defenders were stationed in and around the school awaiting the first major battle of the Second Wizarding War.  
  
As they approached the doors to the dining hall, a new painting on the wall caught their attention. It was a landscape of their beloved school bathed in a glorious sunrise and surrounded by the glistening lake and lush greenery. Every stone of the building was clearly visible. Every shrub, every tree, and every flower was distinctly outlined. Even the tall gleaming Quidditch posts could be seen in the background. The emerald-eyed boy traced his fingers over the beautiful picture; looking at the angle, it seemed as if the artist had sat in the middle of the sky to paint the scene the trio beheld. The painting radiated hope, and the boy was grimly determined to make this the first and last battle his generation would ever see. Glancing at the plaque beneath the painting's frame, the boy arched an eyebrow at the artist. Harry shook his head angrily; there was so much they would never know about their former arch nemesis, all because of the strength of hatred.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the large doors of the Great Hall and entered, Hermione and Ron right beside him.  
  
Hundreds of faces stared back at the three. The four House tables now held the various people willing to fight against Voldemort. They weren't all Aurors; many were just regular witches and wizards who wanted to do their share to help save the wizarding world in the brewing war. Harry recognized Order members, all seated at the teacher's table with Professor Dumbledore. The hall was, for the most part, very quiet; the congregated people talked in hushed tones amongst themselves about anything and nothing. The atmosphere reeked of tension and unspoken fears of the obscure future that lie ahead of them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved toward the Hufflepuff table where the Hogwarts students were huddled together, anxiety apparent on their faces. Harry was surprised to note that there were about eight or nine green cloaks amid the sea of red, blue and yellow ones. As he and his two best friends took seats on the bench, Dumbledore rose from his seat.  
  
I do not believe I need to explain the risks we are each running here. Each one of you has realized the inevitable perils that are attached to a cause such as this. In that, you are not special. However, while the rest of wizarding society has come to accept what is happening, you are here - and that makes you different. By being in this room at this moment, you have demonstrated an extraordinary amount of courage. To be here, to be willing to sacrifice yourself for your fellow magickind and the muggle world, you have set a stone in the road. Our combined stones form a path toward a better, safer future.  
  
He paused and smiled gravely at everyone.  
  
As we step outside this building and cast the spells to protect our world, let us not forget those who started the path before us:  
  
...Frank and Alice Longbottom, whose strength in the face of danger inspires us to stay strong despite the odds.  
  
...Lily and James Potter, whose unselfish love should be remembered as we are forced to make difficult decisions.  
  
...Harry Potter, the proclaimed hope of the wizarding world since he was a year old, whose bravery thus far can be the light to guide us in all our endeavors.  
  
...Cedric Diggory, whose cooperation and teamwork encourages us to work together as one strong unit to accomplish our goals.  
  
...Sirius Black, whose loyalty and determination should serve as a reassurance even in the most dire of situations.  
  
And last, but certainly not least, let us commend Draco Malfoy. Not only did he show us the courage to stand up and fight for what we believe in, but he proved that a dragon's heart is a lot stronger than its fire.

_Bruises fade, Father, but the pain remains the same  
And I still remember how you kept me so afraid  
Strength is my mother for all the love she gave  
Every morning that I wake, I look back at yesterday  
  
And I'm okay  
  
_

A/N: Well, there you have it. ::sniff:: I cannot believe I'm done...A few responses to your reviews:  
  
**Why? Why would I kill my main character off?** Besides the fact that I can? In my eyes, I saw Draco as a tragic hero. He doesn't exactly fit the mold of the traditional Greek tragic hero, but I still saw him as one in my mind.  
  
And **Ariverrunsthroughphoenix** picked up on the foreshadowing in Chapter 12: "It was of a dragon-slaying, the magnificent silver-gray beast laying in a pool of its own blood while its conqueror stood upon its back, shaking his crimson sword above his head and yelling victoriously." Although **mickeylover303** had a good guess, but that wasn't specifically put in as foreshadowing. Good job guys, and thanks for the reviews!  
  
**samhaincat**: If I was able to choose another category, believe me, I would choose Tragedy. You brought up valid points, and I'll keep them in mind for the future. I'm very sorry you were disappointed, but thank you for the compliments on my writing and the rest of the story, and for being honest in your review.  
  
**oasis**: Nope, no sequel. Draco couldn't leave because he felt he had to say a few things before he broke all ties from his father's influence. And although Lucius did hate mostly everyone in this story, he specifically hates Narcissa because of her relationship with Draco. Don't like the idea of Tonks/Harry? lol Kinda intrigues me, actually, but I'll leave that to another story and plotline.  
  
A HUGE THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO CONTINUOUSLY REVIEWED AND SUPPORTED THIS STORY. I can't even begin to explain my appreciation for all of your thoughts and questions. Honestly, even after 25 chapters, I'm still amazed by the amount of and energy of your responses. You all ROCKED, and I am eternally grateful to every single one of you for taking the time out to review. THANK YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH!!! MUAH!!!  
  
Stay tuned for my next story, most likely a Draco/Hermione fic!!!


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